


Hotter Than the Sun

by RightNow2808



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-07-13 04:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16010753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RightNow2808/pseuds/RightNow2808
Summary: Rafael Nadal spent his whole life trying to hide the fact that he's an omega. He never expected a tiny mistake to completely change his life and destroy everything he had been building for years.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!  
> So, I only got this idea today, but it really got into my head and I wanted to post the first chapter right away. I can't promise how often I'll update since the school started already :(, but I'll try my best.  
> I really hope you like it and please, leave kudos and comment (it would mean the world to me).  
> Enjoy reading :)

**AUGUST 2002**

It was another hot day in Manacor and under the brightest sun Rafael was as usually practicing with his uncle Toni. He was used to the heat, to the sun hurting his eyes every time he had to serve, to his skin burning.

But on that day, something was different. Rafa hadn’t felt particularly good since the morning, but he brushed it off. There were mornings when he simply wasn’t feeling well, but all of it disappeared once he really started the day. But something was off. He couldn’t eat properly, he felt emotionally tired out and sensitive and he felt weaker than usual. Maybe it was just the heat.

 He had already completely sweated through his third practice shirt, and little black spots were dancing on the edges of his vision. His shots were lacking power, the racket kept slipping from his slippery hand. He kept drinking water and isotonic drinks in hopes of feeling better. He needed to focus because this practice mostly consisted of Toni yelling at him and Rafa hated that.

The next break was too short for Rafa to even catch his breath and when he stood up to return to his position on the court the world around him swayed dangerously and he had to sit back down. His vision was grey. Toni worriedly looked at him.

“You’re pale,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Rafa nodded but in the next moment nausea hit him so hard he doubled over and threw up into the trash bin close to the bench. He felt dizzy, out of control, weak and so incredibly hot. His skin was burning, his head started to hurt really bad. He heard Toni saying something but couldn’t make out the words. After he was done he fell to his knees and lay down right there on the clay, his body simply couldn’t keep him up anymore. He couldn’t breathe.

He felt something cold at his neck. His eyes slowly opened, he could see clearly again, but he still felt weak and sick. Toni was kneeling beside him, he was the one who poured water on Rafa’s face and neck.

“It’s just a heat stroke,” Toni said. “Come on, let’s get you off the court quickly.”

They walked back into the club, leaving all of their stuff on the court, Toni supporting almost all of Rafa’s weight. The climatized air in the club felt wonderful against Rafa’s overheated skin, but the boy still felt like he was burning up on the inside. He sat down on the first chair he saw, miserably wondering why the hell he felt so unwell.

Toni came to him just a few seconds later, his eyes cautious as he looked around the space. They were mostly alone.

“I know what’s going on with you,” he said. “It’s not just a heat stroke like I thought, come on, let’s get you home.”

“No,” Rafa stubbornly mumbled. He was starting to tremble, and he angrily squeezed his hands into fists to try and stop it.  “We didn’t finish the practice. I already feel better.”

“Rafael, stop being irrational, you’re not safe here, not now. We’re going home.”

When those words got into Rafa’s head, he got slightly scared, but he still wondered if this was just a test from Toni to see if Rafa would try and get out of practice. He was determined not to fail it.

“I just need to drink some water. I didn’t drink enough today, I could be a little dehydrated, but I’m fine,” he argued, screaming at Toni with each cell of his body, no, I won’t fail that. Toni’s eyes narrowed in anger, but Rafa could also see something else in there. Worry.

“ _Dios mio_ , Rafael. You’re in heat and we need to go, before somebody smells you.” Toni finally lost it, his voice no longer calm. Rafa froze where he was sitting, his heart stopping for a second. His eyes widened. He looked around, but the club room was now completely empty.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. Mostly everybody in his family was a beta, but they were quite surprised when Rafa didn’t present as an alpha by the age of fourteen with all the results in tennis he was achieving. Nobody ever even thought he could be an omega, not with the muscles he had.

“I can smell it,” Toni confirmed. In that moment Rafa felt as if all of his dreams shattered, only he didn’t have any time to think about that, when another wave on nausea hit him and he pressed a hand over his mouth, closed his eyes and tried to keep it down.

“What- what’s happening to me?” he whimpered, getting more scared with each passing second.

“Calm down, it’s normal. You’re going into your first heat, it’s okay to be scared, but we’re going home right now, okay? I’ll come back later and bring you your stuff.”

Rafa nodded, feeling tears gathering in his eyes. He felt cold sweat running down the back of his neck and he was still so disgustingly burning up from the inside that an unwanted sob left his mouth. Toni would usually ignore his crying or even make fun of him because of it, but this time he looked at him with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He gripped Rafa’s elbow, got him on his feet and quickly led him outside to the parking lot.

“I just don’t feel okay,” Rafa said, tears spilling down his cheeks. His legs were shaking, and he could barely walk. “How- how am I gonna play tennis now?” he sobbed. Omegas weren’t known for being physically strong and Rafa was terrified of this heat reducing his chances at competitive tennis.

“Just as you did before. Come on, this is not the time to stress out. You can do that later, okay?”

Rafa, not one bit convinced, nodded and tried to get to the car as quickly as he could because the heat from the scorching sun beating down on him didn’t help at all. The people they went by sniffled at him which was something Rafa’d never had happening to him before and he only cried more when he saw that the looks being sent into his direction were from some people piteous, from some disgusted, but what was the worst, some glances he got were unmistakeably sexual and he hid his face behind his hands because he knew he wouldn’t get as much as a look from these people if he wasn’t giving away the smell of an omega in heat.


	2. Chapter 2

Ever since he was thirteen Rafa knew what heat was for and what it meant. He’d always blushed right to the tips of his ears when he was told that the omega couldn’t leave the house for at least four days because of the need to just… have sex. Besides a stolen kiss on the beach one day, he didn’t do anything else at the age of sixteen. Between his practices, the studying and giving what little time he had left to his friends, he decided that his love life and adventures could wait for a little longer.

Being a physically very active boy, he couldn’t imagine having to stay in the house for four whole days. He couldn’t imagine how strong this need had to be to prevent him from fulfilling his love for the beach, the sea, for the nature.

When they taught them about the heat at school, nobody mentioned throwing up, fainting or feeling unexplainably sick and weak. No, they didn’t teach him anything particularly useful, but what they did teach him about happened later, when he was already at home, still in tears and getting more hysteric with each passing second. He locked himself into his room and let no one in, not his mum, not his sister and most definitely not his dad. He didn’t know what his parents were feeling, but he could imagine that they were disappointed about their son being an omega.

Immediately after he came home, he went to get a bag of ice from the freezer and once in his room, undressed down to his boxers. He was sweating everywhere, his hair was completely wet, even dripping with the salty water. He lay on the bed, put the ice on his stomach, but it melted in less than ten minutes on his overheated skin and then it got even worse than before, only there was no way he would go get another one, leaving the comfort of his room and having to face the humiliation. The unbearable heat was still better.

He could hear his parents talking to Toni. They were going at it for almost an hour, after Rafa refused to let anyone in his room. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could imagine. No omega ever got particularly good at any sports, why would Rafa be any different? He rolled around on his tummy and sobbed into the pillow, for the fourth time completely losing it and breaking down in tears.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Go away,” he yelled, his voice breaking. He couldn’t stand looking at anyone.

“Rafa, it’s me,” came Maribel’s voice through the door. Maribel still had to present. Everybody assumed she would be a beta like the rest of the family, but after Rafa’s surprise everything could happen, “let me in!” She could become an alpha, for fuck’s sake.

“No! Go away,” he repeated, before buried his face back into the pillow and cried harder. He didn’t remember ever crying so hard in his entire life, but the thought of his tennis career ending so abruptly before it even started was the most horrible thought he could manage.

Eventually he cried himself to sleep. The sleep was restless, he was tossing and turning, getting the sheets completely damp with his sweat and he woke up again after about half an hour, something burning in his belly. He realised that it was the need that woke him up and completely disgusted with himself, tears sprang into his eyes again.

“Rafa, sweetheart, let me in, we need to talk.” His mother’s voice was soft and gentle when she knocked on the door just a few seconds later and Rafa almost caved in, but as he moved to get up, he felt something slick in between his thighs. He froze, gasping, almost trembling with fear. This wasn’t what he thought it was, right? He reached behind with a shaky hand, into his boxers and slipped his fingers in between his ass cheeks. They came back wet with a clear substance and Rafa whimpered, staring at it. It was exactly what he thought it was.

“Mama,” he sobbed hysterically, stumbling off the bed and towards the door. His fingers shook so badly he managed to get the door unlocked, before he opened it and threw himself into a hug to his mother, who gently pushed him into the room, closed the door behind them and then hugged him tightly, not minding the sweat or his overheated skin. Rafa sobbed into her shoulder, holding on for dear life while she stroked his hair and murmured soothing words that needed time to be processed by Rafa.

“It’s okay, baby. This is not a bad thing. We’ll work through everything, I promise. Don’t be afraid, okay? I know that you’re scared, Rafael, but this is completely normal, don’t work yourself up. Calm down, sweetheart, come on, breathe with me. That’s right, deep breaths.”

Rafa relaxed slightly and breathed slowly, only then realizing that his breathing sped up and that his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. He managed to calm down after a few minutes, his mum still murmuring soothing words into his ear.

She led him back to the bed and helped Rafa, whose legs were completely shaky by that point, lay down, while she sat beside him.

“See?” she asked, smiling slightly, “everything will be alright, I promise. You know what’s happening to you, right?” she asked. Rafa looked away and nodded. “Okay. Baby, this means you’re all grown up. So, we need to make an important decision, okay? Listen to me, carefully. You can go through this heat alone, we’ll get you everything you need, but I’ll be honest with you. It’ll last longer, and it will cause you pain. A lot of it.”

Rafa stared at her with teary eyes. “What are the other options?”

“The only other option is to get you an alpha to bring you through it.”

Rafa shuddered. He couldn’t tell if it was from disgust or from somebody mentioning what he was so clearly needing.

“No,” he said immediately. He was too young to commit his life to somebody. His mother seemed to understand that by taking one look at him.

“Darling, you wouldn’t be bonding with him,” she explained, but before she could continue, Rafa cut her off.

“With him?!” he almost yelled, his voice high-pitched.

“I’m afraid no woman could give you what you need, not with an important body part missing. It would be practically the same as going through it alone.” She was flushing a little bit too and Rafa, already completely red, wanted to go crawl in a hole and die somewhere. His heartbeat was speeding up again, but he tried to keep calm. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker he could give his attention to his dick – which to his horror was beginning to get hard.

“Mama, I’m scared,” he whimpered. “This… This already hurts, but-“ It did. A slow burning feeling at the pit of his stomach, like something was slowly trying to get out of there, scratching through his skin from the inside. “But, I don’t- God, I’m too young, mum- I can’t.”

“Let’s make a deal, okay? I’ll get you an alpha in case it gets too hard for you, what do you say?” Rafa wanted to say no, he really did, but resisting his nature was something he wasn’t strong enough for.

“Okay,” he whispered, looking away dejectedly.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the beach house. You’ll have your peace there, but we have to hurry to get there before the first wave really starts.”

Rafa nodded after a minute of stubbornly trying to find another chance, slowly getting up again, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top. He couldn’t stop shaking and he couldn’t just give up the fight of his mind against his body. But he also couldn’t let his family see or hear him like this. His mum was right. The safest place to be in was their beach house which was currently empty.

“Mama?” Rafa asked as he let her lead him down the stairs and into the car. Rafa felt hotter and needier by the second.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Does dad hate me now?” Something crossed her eyes when she looked at him.

“Of course not. Nobody hates you.”

Rafa nodded, but he never truly believed her answer. Because nobody ever looked at him in the same way again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii,  
> so I was quick about this chapter and hopefully another one is coming tomorrow (depends on how much homework we get and when will my coach be happy with my forehand slice),  
> I'm putting up more tags and warnings with tomorrow's chapter :)  
> Thank you for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

Rafa lasted for exactly two hours after it truly hit him. They were the longest two hours of his life. Way longer than the last lesson at school on Friday. The frustration was itching at his insides and he wanted to scream with it. No matter what he did he just simply couldn’t come. He was aroused like never before, his cock already sore, because he kept jerking off in hopes of finishing this, but no matter how he did it, or how much, he only got harder, it only got more painful and he got frustrated to the point of crying.

The sheets he was lying on were already soaked, not just in his sweat, but with slick too, so much having leaked out of him that Rafa truly began to worry if that was even normal. He’d never touched himself there before, but the need to have something inside of him was so overpowering that he finally reluctantly reached behind and pressed one finger inside. A soft whimper left his lips, he pushed his hips up. It didn’t provide any relief, and in that moment Rafa knew that nothing would, nothing but an alpha’s cock.

His mother told him she would bring him food and other stuff he would need and that he should call her immediately if he needed anything. He reached for his phone. His mind was completely disgusted with him, but his body knew that only one thing could stop this itching and this pain. He stopped being unreasonable, stopped trying to fight something he simply knew he couldn’t.

“Mama,” he breathed quietly when she picked up. “You were right.”

From there on everything in Rafa’s memory was a little hazy. He remembered the need that felt like it would burn him from the inside, how he cried and twisted against the sheets, grinding his hips against the mattress to try and get off, but it was all useless. He didn’t know how much time passed. It could be fifteen minutes, it could be an hour, it could be a whole day, but to Rafa it felt like a lot more until a delicious smell broke through his haze.

At the smell of an alpha so close to him Rafa whimpered and even though he’d never done anything like this ever before, a part of him knew just what to do. He drew his legs up under him and presented himself, acting completely on instinct.

Rafa didn’t know who the first man who fucked him was until he came for the third time, yelling partly in pleasure partly in pain, when his senses slowly started coming back. Everything that happened before was a blur of need and fulfilling pleasure. He tried to twist from underneath the person who was lying on top of him and needed just a second of sharp pain to know that he couldn’t because he was knotted.

With the senses the shame came back too, and he started crying in the pillow, not caring about anyone hearing him. His emotions were a mess and even if he’d wanted to stop the tears he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“Rafa? Hey, none of that,” a voice said and Rafa froze and- no, no, no – he tried to twist his head to look, but it would be better he didn’t, because it just confirmed who was here – lying on top of him, with his dick in Rafa’s ass – Rafa tried to push him away, but Carlos gripped his hands firmly, pressed them against the mattress.

“Rafa, calm down,” he said and there it was – Rafa couldn’t do anything but obey, taking in a long breath and then relaxing against the sheets, still softly crying. Carlos sighed, kissed his cheek softly, then gently turned them around until both of them were lying on their sides, Carlos spooning him, his cock still twitching in Rafa every once in a while, making Rafa squeeze his eyes shut in the mortification every time. He couldn’t stop crying and he couldn’t just cave in, not even when Carlos was gently touching his waist, his sides and murmuring sweet things to him. It felt good, but Rafa couldn’t give in.

“You don’t remember anything, do you?”

Rafa shook his head, but in the minute he did so, memories started coming back to him. His mother making him drink down a pill, Carlos asking both him and his mother if they were sure, if Rafa really wanted this and Rafa clearly remembered about how he didn’t care about anything. He felt like he would explode with the need.

“I do,” Rafa whispered. Carlos’ hand stopped stroking his skin. “I didn’t think she’d call you. I hoped she would ask someone I don’t know. It would be easier that way.”

“No, she asked me because she trusted me not to hurt you, somebody else might would have.” Carlos’ voice sounded angry and Rafa wanted to curl into a ball and hide at the thought of angering or dissatisfying _his_ alpha. “Look, Rafa, I know what you’re feeling. A lot of omegas go through that – through that self-hate. Please, don’t let that happen to you, you don’t deserve it.”

“It’s just-“ Rafa whispered. Carlos was his good friend and he didn’t know how he should be feeling, but he definitely wasn’t feeling well. His mind was filled with worry and he couldn’t stop wondering where that would leave their friendship. “Carlos, no omega ever reached anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” Rafa insisted. He wanted to turn around, but Carlos’ knot still didn’t go down enough to be able to pull out and Rafa let out a loud whimper before he stilled. Carlos’ hand continued its easy way of exploring Rafa’s skin.

“Have you ever thought that the omegas might be hiding that? From prejudiced people like you, because they’re afraid to be judged, which is exactly what you’re doing now?”

“You can’t hide being an omega,” Rafa snorted, stubbornly and ruefully and feeling overall terrible.

“Of course you can, Rafa. Never listened in school very well, have you?” For the first time since all of this started Rafa felt a spark of hope.

“No,” he admitted. “I never had the reason to. The possibility of me being an omega never really crossed my mind.”

“That’s silly of you,” Carlos said, gentling his words with a soft kiss to the nape of Rafa’s neck. His knot went down enough to pull out. Rafa whimpered softly again, then turned around in Carlos’ arms, facing him.

“I’m sorry you had to do this,” he said. His tears never really dried and new were already slowly slipping down his cheeks.

“Don’t worry, it would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“That’s worse,” Rafa replied. He wouldn’t look Carlos in the eyes, he had his eyes stubbornly set on his neck. “I don’t- I hate people seeing me weak and you had seen me at my strongest, the complete opposite of this – it just feels so degrading. Me not being even conscious enough to say no.”

Carlos stiffened. “You would have said no?”

“If this wasn’t happening I wouldn’t ever even ask you for this, God, I hate this so much. What do I do?”

Carlos was looking at him with distrust and slowly untangled himself from Rafa. “Your mum said it was okay,” he murmured to himself. It became clear to Rafa that Carlos was battling with guilt and only because he opened his stupid mouth. He displeased his alpha. Rafa hated the feeling this caused low in his gut. It was worse than the disgust he felt for being in this situation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Carlos looked back at him, at Rafa curled up in the middle of the bed, looking small and vulnerable and he sighed.

“Don’t be, Rafa. First, we’ll get you through your heat and then I’m sure your family will come up with a great solution. There are heat suppressants and I’m sure that if you really want it, you’ll work hard for it, because that’s who you are, okay?”

Very shyly Rafa nodded. When Carlos said it like that, the future suddenly didn’t seem so dark anymore. He didn’t know if it was the affect Carlos had on him as his alpha or if what he said actually made sense. Either way, Rafa didn’t feel so bad anymore.

“I’ll go prepare some food before the next wave hits, try to get some rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I was a little skeptical writing this and I'm still not sure about posting, because it's underage, and I hope all of you could take this, I tried not to make it very detailed. The point is, this is going to be a really sad story at times, just a warning, and maybe something you have already gathered from this chapter, but I hope you like it anyways :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I wasn't able to update earlier, but I was really sick :(  
> I'm still a bit weak, and I have a lot of school work to catch up with so I can't promise when I'll update but I'll try my best.  
> Thank you and enjoy reading :)

**MAY 2003**

His family and Carlos were right. He didn’t have to worry about not being strong enough because he was an omega. He worked hard, and he never gave up. His mind was one of steel, he played like every point was his last and in the last two years he played through a series of challenger and futures tournaments, going up with the same speed as before. The only thing that could stop him were the injuries. Nothing else. And definitely not the fact that he’s an omega.

Rafa always stepped on court to win and the desire for the victory was never a problem. It was always there. He lost a lot, sure, but he always battled until the last point. Never in his life had he imagined that he would step out on court in front of hundreds of spectators and instead of wanting to play, he wanted to drop to his knees, bare his neck and offer his submission. Standing on the other side of the net was Carlos, who technically wasn’t Rafa’s bonded alpha, but it was enough that Rafa had no desire to beat him.

Rafa was still stunned that he was playing in the main draw of a Masters event, the sound of it alone was foreign to him. And not only that, he was playing in the second round here in Hamburg, at the age of sixteen, and not many tennis players could say that. So, why the hell wasn’t the want to win there?

Finding the motivation to fight during that match was one of the most difficult things he had to overcome in his tennis career. It was worse than doing push-ups or burpees, it was worse than hitting the 200th serve of the practice with an aching back. It was far worse than a five-hour practice under the Mallorcan scorching sun, because once again he didn’t only have his body to beat, but his whole nature too.

But still. He forced himself to return shots, to serve pedantically, to play smartly. The need to submit slowly slipped away and the typical adrenaline burst into Rafa’s veins. Running got easier, hitting winners didn’t physically hurt him anymore. During the breaks there was no time to think, he had to focus all his attention into not giving in to his instincts but to play like he knew how to. He didn’t actually realize that he was doing fine until it was all over. He vamosed, pumped his fist, but until he looked over to the scoreboard he didn’t actually know that he had won. He ran towards the net. Carlos was there, looking at him with a gentle smile.

That’s when the guilt him so hard that he almost lost his balance, almost tumbling to the floor. He didn’t know what kept him standing – his own will, or Carlos’ hand that was already on his back, patting him gently and saying something. Rafa tried to focus to hear what he was saying, but the only thing he could do was to say sorry. He kept repeating it.

“Don’t worry,” Carlos said, “I told you you could do it, and you did. I’m proud of you.”

Rafa couldn’t just simply stop worrying though. That’s why he so pathetically lost his match the next day, everything he had learnt suddenly completely forgotten. It was as if he held the racket for the first time, making too many unforced errors and hardly any winner.

Carlos came to their suite that evening. Rafa was lying in his room, crying. He’d just went through the match with Toni and realizing just how much of the opportunities he wasted because he wasn’t concentrated enough, because he let his mind wonder to where they didn’t belong, at least not anywhere near tennis. It was Rafa’s life choice to leave his life as an omega far from his tennis one. He promised himself he wouldn’t ever mix those two, but it was hard to ignore a part of his nature no matter how much Toni yelled at him.

Carlos knocked on his door and Rafa yelled a lazy ‘come in’. He quickly wiped at his cheeks and hoped his eyes weren’t too red.

“Hey,” Carlos greeted him, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Rafa grumbled, facing the other side of the room.

“You’re still worrying about it, aren’t you?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed carefully and put one hand on Rafa’s knee. Rafa finally turned around to look at him and saw the expression on Carlos’ face immediately turn to one of pity. “You were crying again.”

Rafa had been crying a lot during the last nine months, hating himself, searching the internet for a way to change what he was, but his parents didn’t want to hear about it, and not that it would work anyways. He had to settle for suppressants, which made him emotionally unstable and completely miserable, but they hid his smell, blocked his heats and made him less prone to reacting to an alpha’s smell or their demanding words.

“Is this going to happen with every alpha I’m ever going to play?” he whispered. Carlos smiled, tucked a strand of hair behind Rafa’s ear.

“No, you’ve played many alphas before and you won against a lot of them. We’re different, though,” Carlos replied.

“Because of the heat?” he asked.

“You probably got used to obeying my orders during the heat. Back then you had no control over it, but now it’s only in your head, sweetheart, and it will pass over time, believe me.”

“Unless we spend another heat together?”

“Well, probably.”

Rafa’s heart started beating faster, he sat up suddenly and tightly gripped Carlos’ hand.

“But who am I gonna spend my next heat with then? You said it would be you – Carlos, you promised-“ There was no doubt Rafa was completely terrified and Carlos didn’t know how to calm him down.

“Rafa, listen, you’ve still got a few months left before the heat, I’m sure you’ll find someone until then, and if not, the first heat is the worst, I’m sure you could manage this one on your own if you wanted to, your will is incredible.”

“But you said – you promised it would be you, you told me more than once, you kept repeating it Carlos – why would… oh, God, I don’t have anybody else!”

Carlos held both of Rafa’s hands in his own and waited until Rafa realized that he was hyperventilating and panicking. “Calm down,” he then said. Rafa did so, still not able to resist his order, but his eyes filled with tears again. Carlos sighed. He felt so sorry for the boy.

“Look, I said that during heat, my hormones were a little out of place and-“

“You’re ashamed of me, aren’t you? Like everybody else is.”

“That’s not true, Rafa. Nobody is ashamed of you.” He was afraid Rafa would get himself into another frenzy, but Rafa was calm, way too calm suddenly, and nothing but the tears flowing from his eyes showed how upset he was.

“Go away, Carlos,” he mumbled. Carlos sighed, but stood up and did as he was told. He stopped at the door, looked back at Rafa’s form, curled up on the bed. He was an amazing player with a strong body, but when he was upset he still looked small and vulnerable. His shoulders were shaking with the force of his supressed sobs, but Carlos only turned away and left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't been able to update earlier, but I needed to write something fluffy before returning to this :)  
> Thank you all for your nice wishes, I'm already feeling a lot better, I'm back to practice and writing :)  
> Enjoy :)

**APRIL 2004**

Rafa didn’t go through with the plan his family had set up. It was a good idea, really. He was supposed to be on suppressant for eleven months straight, then go off them in the twelfth month, to go through his heat and then start preparing to play the next tournament. But when the eleventh month was coming closer and closer back in August, Rafa simply decided not to go off the suppressants. He kept taking them, went to their family beach house to fake a heat and nothing changed.

Because Rafa didn’t want anyone other than Carlos taking him through his heat and since Rafa found nobody he could trust enough, he simply decided not to do it. He wasn’t afraid of anybody hurting him, no, he was a big boy, he could take it, but he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody telling the rest of the world about what he was.

Only, he knew that skipping his heat, and only his second one at that, would mess with his cycle. He’d been told that more than once. But it was April and everything was still normal. Rafa desperately tried not to let the worry and the guilt constantly nag at the back of his mind, but it was difficult. The only time he could switch his mind off was on the court. There nothing could stop him. He wrapped his sensitive mind with a wall of steel and let nothing in, not until the match was done and he was shaking hands with the opponent.

Physically he felt sure. Nothing was hurting him, he was in great condition. He trusted himself. That’s why he was only lightly nervous when he walked out on court to face the world number 1. Rafa knew he had to play his heart out to have any chance of winning. But he was good at that. Playing he could do. It took his mind off things and made him so tired that he could actually sleep at night instead of tossing and turning, worry about the future without a pause.

He knew Roger Federer. They had momentarily met at Indian Wells the following week. Rafa had wanted to introduce himself but instead he just sputtered uselessly and stared at Roger completely mesmerized. The best player in the world. An alpha by the smell of it. Rafa really tried not to let it affect him, but it was hard. It was the most delicious smell he’d ever smelled. But however it turned out, Roger didn’t seem to hate him, since he came to him the next day and given Rafa permission to come watch him into his box if he wanted. Rafa did. He sat down beside Mirka and tentatively smelled at her. She smelled of Roger all over, confirming Rafa’s suspicion that they were a couple. He couldn’t tell what Mirka was, Roger’s smell on her was too strong.

From a new friend Roger quickly turned into a rival for Rafa. They faced in the second round at the Masters in Miami. Rafa believed in himself, he didn’t want to lose because of Roger being a dominant alpha who could probably get Rafa to his knees with a single look. No, Rafa was determined to fight – to fight his body and his nature – until the last point.

That’s what he did. And surprisingly – he won. The result couldn’t tell how difficult the match was. He won with surprising 6-3, 6-3 even though it felt like a best of five match with all sets going into tiebreaks. Rafa was hiding his face behind his hands, trying to hide his tears and his emotions and after he finally managed to gather himself he ran towards the net.

He hugged Roger, leaned his head against the alpha’s shoulder. Roger was taller than him, but Rafa was still growing and he hoped more than anything that he would be at least as tall as him some day.

“Well played,” Roger told him and patted Rafa’s belly, which suddenly felt a little unsettled.

“I- Thank… Um, gracias,” Rafa mumbled, his already bad English even worse because he wanted to make a good impression on Roger, but he wasn’t succeeding – well, his game may have been well-played, but Rafa just wanted to get to know Roger in person and be known by him in return.

As soon as he really thought that he shook the thought out of his head. What on earth was he thinking? He couldn’t get close to another player on tour. It was far too dangerous. What if they outed him as revenge for having lost to him? Everything would be lost. Rafa couldn’t even think about it. He pulled away from Roger, but it was difficult.  

“I’ll see you around?” Roger asked and Rafa quickly nodded his head, before he went to the umpire to shake his hand. A strange feeling took over him and he wanted to get off the court as soon as possible, but he knew it would look weird. So he put his racket and his headband down and walked back to the middle of the court with his arms spread wide and soaked in the victory, no matter how much his nature told him he wasn’t made for winning. Rafa’s heart was.

He saw Roger later that day in the hotel where they were staying. Roger gave him a nice smile which made Rafa’s stomach flutter and blood rush into his cheeks, but Mirka, following Roger close behind gave him a completely murderous look. For the first time since he met her, she was lacking Roger’s smell, but there was nothing underneath and Rafa took it as a sign that she was a beta. He briefly questioned Roger’s choices, but then immediately reminded himself that everybody sniffing at him would think he’s a beta too. Maybe Mirka was doing the same thing as he was.

He pushed the weird feeling of jealousy away and decided he won’t stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Only it was difficult, because the few times Rafa had been with Roger in the past month made Rafa feel incredibly nice and he was really starting to like Roger. He couldn’t tell if it was his smell or his simple acts of kindness like inviting Rafa to come watch him in his box. Rafa knew only that Roger made him feel like he’d never felt before and that he was afraid because Roger clearly had a girlfriend and Rafa would be left alone once more. It would be better to distance himself as much as he could, because this was a dangerous territory and Rafa couldn’t afford his emotions to get in the way of his tennis career.

He shut his heart down, tried to hide it from the rest of the world. Nobody had to know what he was feeling. The world wanted to see his tennis, which he was good at. He could do this, but from the beginning he knew how difficult it was going to be.


	6. Chapter 6

Sure, he knew that taking the suppressants without letting himself have a heat would mess with his cycle, but he didn’t know it could actually hurt him.

When he guiltily told the doctor that he had skipped his heat the doctor gave him a stern look and sighed.

“Look, Rafael. I know that by taking one look at this you wouldn’t think that skipping the heat could have any impact on your ankle, but all these hormones are messing with your body and a stress fracture was to be expected. Your body can’t function properly without having what it needs, so don’t be stubborn and listen to yourself.”

Tears filled his eyes. He wasn’t expecting that. Okay, he expected to feel sick or throw up or get sudden fevers, but he didn’t expect a stress fracture in his ankle. Definitely not one that would force him to skip his first ever clay season as a pro player, not now when he was doing so well. He knew he had really good chances, but he could barely walk, there wasn’t a way for that to heal fast enough to make it to Roland Garros.

“Listen to me, kid. Go off the suppressants right away before they hurt you even more and do what’s natural for your body. You shouldn’t ignore your needs just because you’re ashamed of them, that’s not how your body works.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Rafa mumbled, even though it was quite a big lie.

“Yes, you are, and you’re not the only one, especially among professional players, but you shouldn’t be. A fifth of the world population is represented by omegas, so you’re not alone in this. If you need someone to talk about it, there are a lot of good professionals I can recommend.”

Rafa’s cheeks burned. This was all just humiliating. He was okay, he didn’t need a therapist, he wasn’t crazy, why would he need one?

“No, thank you,” he murmured, looking away.

“Okay, I’m not going to force you into anything, but as your doctor I’ll order you to go home, go through heat and then rest for at least a month before going back on court. I’ll talk to your uncle about gym and pool training but everything else is off the table, understood?”

Rafa barely visibly nodded, he just needed to get out of there. He couldn’t imagine more than a month without stepping on court. What else would he do? Ever since he was three, his days existed of tennis, his family, his friends and additionally, football. But for the past ten years it’s been mostly tennis. Six hours or more of training per day left him addicted to the court, to holding a racket in his hand and nothing could make him more miserable than a bed rest.

When the doctor told his parents what happened they were mad at Rafa. Not mad like they were when he didn’t clean his room or did the dishes, or when he lost a match he should have won, because he let his concentration slip. No, they were really pissed the fuck off. Rafa didn’t remember if they had ever been that angry before.

His mum yelled at him for an hour, before she turned away and ignored him for the rest of the day, while his father didn’t even speak to him, but he was sending glares that were half disappointed and half angry right until Rafa went to bed that day. Toni took it the worst. Right after he heard the news he sent Rafa a murderous look, before he turned around and walked away. Even though Rafa yelled after him, he never looked back and didn’t speak to Rafa for a whole week.

“How can I believe you won’t do it again?” his mother asked him the next morning after Rafa sat down at the table with a heavy sigh, putting his crutches down on the floor. Rafa glared at her darkly. A snappy response was right on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it away. He tried to stop glaring and relax his face.

“I didn’t take the suppressant yesterday, and I think you’ll believe me soon.” He woke up sweaty this morning, his dream indistinct, but Rafa knew it was about Roger. With a great amount of disgust and frustration he had dragged himself into the shower and jerked off, because there was no training waiting for him to let all of this pressure out.

“Okay, did you talk to anybody?” she asked and put a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him together with a glass of his favourite orange juice. Maybe she wasn’t that mad at him anymore.

“Thanks, about what?”

“About the heat, Raf. To help you through it.”

Rafa blushed. It had been almost two years since they first talked about that, but he didn’t feel like those two years brought him anything. If anything, he felt even more awkward. He was eighteen and not counting his first heat which he couldn’t control he was still just a shy virgin and he couldn’t imagine himself asking anybody for help for this.

“No,” he said too quickly. “No, I’ll do it alone.”

His mother sighed and indeed she wasn’t angry at him anymore, just like everyone else she was pitying him. Rafa had learned to recognize that look in her eyes.

“Sweetheart, why would you hurt yourself like that? Why don’t you just let yourself enjoy it?”

Rafa didn’t want to tell her about feeling shy and inexperienced. So he told the other part of the truth.

“Mum, you don’t understand. They could tell who- what I am, you know that would ruin everything.”

“But why do you think that? There are many successful omegas in the world, in the sports too.”

“You do realize that the opponent could use that against me if they knew, right? Mum, this is not a solo sport, where I’d be doing everything on my own, or a group sport where there would be a team behind me. It’s a duel and do you know what would happen if an alpha on the other side of the net told me to retire? I wouldn’t be able to help it and I’d do it. We can’t let anybody know.”

She sighed. “Do you really think they would do it?”

“They would see weakness and yes, they would do anything for a trophy, especially when it’s as simple as that.”

“Oh, baby, I never taught you to think of the world as such a dark place. You have to believe in good, otherwise you’ll just walk around this circle, hiding yourself and your heart because you’ll be afraid of getting hurt, but if you don’t show them your heart, they will never show you theirs. Try to believe in the good, okay?”

Rafa wanted to really badly, but he felt as if the whole world had turned on him.


	7. Chapter 7

**APRIL 2005**

Rafa was feeling better and better with each passing day. He found himself feeling the court, moving well and keeping his mind on the highest possible level of concentration. The past few months weren’t bad, and he just kept moving up. He didn’t look anywhere else, his only path was forward.

He kept pushing everything that wasn’t tennis out of his head. It worked. At least when he was on court. With the help of the adrenaline his mind became sharp, he only thought tactics and let his body do the rest. He tried not to think about the memory of pain which still lingered in his ankle, he had to forget about it, push it away, erase it completely.

Off the court he was the complete opposite. He was stressed and confused, awkward and lonely. He was glad his family was travelling with him, otherwise he didn’t know how he would spend his free time. It was difficult enough for him to make friends as it was and even more so in a foreign country with a language he barely knew how to speak. Yes, English was still a mystery to him.

Okay, since they won the Davis cup back in November, he considered the rest of his team his friends. Only, Carlos had already made it clear enough what he thought about him, and Tommy and Juan Carlos still thought of him as an annoying teenager who had woven its way into their group to steal the fame. And Rafa still spent a lot of time with them even though he mostly just sat by and listened.

Roger was the only exception. Rafa had only seen him in Australia since the beginning of the season. He knew a lot of players had Roger’s phone number but Rafa would never dare to ask for it, so he quietly stalked after Roger whenever he could. Sometimes Roger didn’t notice him, but sometimes he did and Rafa liked it so much he simply stopped being discreet.

Roger would always laugh ope nly and sincerely, grab Rafa’s hand to squeeze it tightly and pull Rafa into a quick hug that made all of the air leave his lungs and leave him a sweaty, stuttering mess. He would kindly ask him how he was doing and Rafa would stumble over his words, barely containing a grin. After their limited conversation Roger would pat his back and told him to come visit his hotel room sometimes. Rafa never did, being way too shy, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t find it in himself to actually do it. This wasn’t like tennis. Tennis was easy compared to this.

He was seeing Roger a lot in Miami. It seemed like the Swiss was behind every corner, each encounter leaving Rafa flushed and flustered. As if that wasn’t enough, his heat was getting closer, heightening his every sense and making him all the more emotional.

He let the frustration that was gathering in him out on the court and before he knew it he had reached the finals. He knew he should be proud of himself for reaching the final, but his mind kept slipping to his next opponent, and the mental preparation for the final match became a mix of anticipation, fear and excitement.

Yes, he wanted to prove himself to Roger and to the rest of the world. He wanted to show the opposite of who he really was. But at the same time Roger was still the alpha who Rafa thought had the most influence over him. Rafa had never let anyone emotionally closer than Roger. The Swiss was the only person he trusted outside of his family which was strange, because he didn’t even know him that well. Coming to think about it, he didn’t know him at all. But Roger’s presence had an affect on him, a calming and trusting one. It would be painful having to fight his nature again. The desire for the win wasn’t there.

There was only a desire to please and to have and just thinking about it made Rafa shudder. He checked his suppressants to see if he had accidentally forgot to take a pill. It was common to become more sensitive to everything in the few days before the heat, but the right number of pills were in the box and Rafa still felt too hot, too bothered, too horny and just too much of everything.

The next day he went to prepare into the locker room a few hours before the match, his team with him. He had just finished lunch after a two-hour warm up and his physio, Rafael, started working on his muscles. He wasn’t physically tired, no, on the contrary there was an immense power releasing from him in waves and Rafa knew it had to be because of his heat coming closer and closer.

Rafael, a physio he didn’t know well yet, because they had only been working together since his ankle stress fracture, but liked his quiet personality, dug his fingers into his thighs and Rafa groaned, his toes curling. Well, that could get embarrassing very quickly, Rafa thought and hid his face behind his hands, trying to think about everything but the fact that he hadn’t been touched by anyone since Carlos and how sensitive his body was to everything. Unsurprisingly, his mind wandered off to Roger and turned his already embarrassing situation into an even more awkward one.

Titín, as Rafa took to calling him a few months ago, ignored the situation and hid whatever he was thinking about this. He was an omega himself, probably part of a reason his dad chose him as his physio. Rafa was relieved and angered both at the same time. Relieved because he simply couldn’t imagine alpha’s hands on him and because an omega knew a body of another omega better than a beta would. But angry because linked to that act there was also pity which Rafa had been surrounded with and hated it more with each passing day. Or at least he thought so.

Toni came back from wherever he had disappeared to and Titín quickly threw another towel over Rafa’s tented crotch, before moving to work on his other thigh. Rafa threw him a thankful glance and Titín returned a small, secretive smile.

He was just starting to warm up when Roger walked into the locker room with his own team. Of course he was later than Rafa, he never needed as much preparation as the Spaniard did. For the thousandth time Rafa thought with admiration, tennis was simply in his genes. Roger was made for it. His nature, his personality, his determination, everything.

He came up to Rafa and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Where the bare skin of their arms touched Rafa felt a fire start which then slowly burnt his way all over his skin, settling inside his belly and his dick which had previously finally calmed down, stood back to attention immediately. Rafa cursed inwardly, that was just stupid, how was he going to play like this?

Just before they parted Rafa felt Roger sniff at his neck. In that single moment he couldn’t do anything but hope that his suppressants hadn’t stopped covering his smell. He relaxed when Roger didn’t do anything to let on something had changed. Good, his suppressants were still doing their job then.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i'm sorry i haven't updated sooner, but i have a massive writer's block and i've barely managed to get this together, it's just really meh, i don't even know   
> i really hope you still like it tho   
> thank you :))

He wasn’t too nervous right before the match started. He knew how to play, and he knew he only had to keep his concentration on the highest. He was feeling fine, the adrenaline was already rushing through his veins, heightening his senses, hiding the pain. He had gone through the plan with Toni, he knew what worked best to beat Roger. He had to stay focused. That’s what was ringing in his mind when he walked out on court. His first ever Masters final. He could do that.

He started out well. He was as concentrated as possible. The mistakes were few and he was playing really well. It was difficult, but he was enjoying it, doing what he loved most and with Roger on the other side of the net. The spectators were mostly on Roger’s side, but an occasional ‘vamos’ from Toni told Rafa he wasn’t alone in this.

The first two sets were his before he knew it and his muscles were starting to feel a little tired.  He didn’t have a lot of experience playing best-of-five matches, he had only got through a few matches at grandslams. It was to be expected that after getting the first two sets his level of concentration would unconsciously drop, no matter how much he tried to stay focused.

But after that second set was his, he let himself relax just a little and the thoughts of who he was playing, how much he just wanted to please him in any possible way instead of having to beat him forced its way back into his brain. And afterwards, he just couldn’t quite shake them away anymore. Not completely. Roger, however, seemed to notice that Rafa’s focus was falling and he grasped it right away.

Even without playing his best tennis in that third set, Rafa got so close to the victory. At one moment he was only two points away from the victory, but that was two points too far. He lost then.

He should feel incredibly disappointed, even angry with himself for letting his concentration slip, but somehow he could only see Roger and his charming smile. They sat together at Roger’s bench while they were waiting for the trophy ceremony. Roger leaned in and said something Rafa couldn’t remember later but he remembered laughing and trying to scoot even closer to Roger until their thighs were pressing together.

They called him on court first. He stumbled through his runner-up speech, knowing he looked funny as he was. His English was horrible, he couldn’t act more awkward if he tried, and a big smile still couldn’t leave his face. He may have lost but he felt as if he had accomplished something big by making Roger as happy as he looked to be. In that moment, nothing in Rafa’s life seemed quite as important as Roger’s happiness. He figured he should be afraid of the emotion, but when Roger came up to him to receive his trophy he felt unmistakeably right.

Later, in the locker room, Roger congratulated him in private and through bad English Rafa praised him like a god, making himself blush. He just couldn’t help feeling like that in Roger’s presence. Sensitive, emotional, and what came the strangest to him, he wanted to be seductive. He couldn’t deny wanting to seduce Roger, even though he was still way too shy to act on the emotion. It didn’t stop him from subtly trying though. He touched Roger’s arm, but when the older man looked down and gave a little, secretive smile, Rafa quickly removed it and blushed some more.

Their teams gave them a little space after they had both showered. They were both still in their underwear and Rafa was quickly searching for fresh clothes, feeling vulnerable and bare in front of Roger’s eyes.

“You have a great future ahead of you, you know?” Roger asked suddenly and Rafa’s head snapped up to look at him, tightly holding a fresh T-shirt and a pair of shorts. He self consciously crossed his arms in front of his chest but even then he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his lips.

“You think?” he asked a little uncertainly, biting at his lip. Roger gave him a big smile.

“Yes, I’m sure of it, you’re really talented.”

Rafa screamed internally. This was possibly the best moment of his life. Roger had called him talented. Roger. Rafa fought to keep a grin from spreading.

“Um… I- thank you very much.”

Now, if Rafa wasn’t mistaken Roger gave him a wink, before he turned around and rummaged through his own bag to retrieve his clothes. Rafa thought that the conversation was over and he himself turned around to get dressed. Just as he was quickly putting his shorts on, Roger spoke up again.

“Hey, Rafa, can I ask you something?”

Rafa’s first thought was ‘oh, shit, what if I can’t understand a thing he says’, but he turned back around and gave what he hoped was a smile and not a painful grimace.

“Sí, for sure,” he said.

 “You smell different,” he said slowly, his eyes intensively staring right into Rafa’s and the Spaniard immediately froze, dropping the shirt he was still holding. Yes, his heat was coming close, but he was sure that the suppressants were still hiding the smell. It didn’t occur to him that the adrenaline running through his veins during the match had intensified the processes in his body, including the release of hormones.

Rafa decided to be careful, not to do anything that would make him look suspicious.

“Was not question,” he said and gatherer all of his will power to look Roger straight into the eyes. Roger tilted his head to the right. He was still just in his underwear and Rafa was intensively aware of miles of Roger’s naked skin. It was hard not to let it distract him and keep his gaze still.

“Okay, let me ask then. You’re an omega, aren’t you?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i'm so sorry i haven't been updating  
> school and practices have been shit, i'm trying to get back to competing, but my knees don't seem to be cooperating so i'm really down, but i promise i'm not giving up on this story  
> @zana_mlakar --> this is my twitter, if anybody wants to follow me :)  
> thank you for staying with me :)

Rafa froze on spot, the question catching him confused and unprepared. His parents and the doctor had assured him that the smell wouldn’t be detectable and that he had nothing to worry about, but Roger was apparently still able to smell him. All the blood drained from his cheeks, and Rafa momentarily felt light-headed.

“How do you know?” he demanded immediately, then bit into his bottom lip. He should have at least tried to deny it instead of acting like he was caught at a crime. That alone should be confirmation enough to Roger that what he had found out was indeed true.

“As I’ve said, the smell,” Roger replied. He was carefully looking at Rafa, but to the Spaniard Roger didn’t seem like he was about to go tell everybody about Rafa’s secret. Rafa didn’t know what to say and he quickly pulled his shirt over his head, feeling even more self-conscious than before if that was even possible. Roger sat down beside him, still disturbingly bare except for his boxers and Rafa needed to put physical effort into trying not to look at him. “Look, Rafa, I’m not going to tell anybody, if that’s what you’re worried about. I was just curious.”

Rafa looked at him carefully and indeed noticed sincerity in Roger’s eyes, but he could also sense something else. He had always been quite good at reading other people’s emotions. He wasn’t sure if that came with being an omega or if he was just gifted, but in that moment, he really wished he couldn’t. He knew Roger was staring down at him. Not seeing him as his equal anymore, but as someone less worthy.

Rafa’s heart squeezed painfully even though it shouldn’t have surprised him. While omegas were generally respected among people, especially the male ones, since they were able to give birth, they were also a priori given the role of a mother, a housewife or a care-taker. There were omegas in medicine, in law too, but they somehow never made it to the top. The same went for professional sport. Rafa was sure this had nothing to do with omegas’ supposed natural weakness. There was nothing weak about him. It was all about the society looking down on the omegas instead of trying to be their equals.

“Thanks,” he mumbled to Roger and zipped up his jacket. He grabbed his bags and turned around to leave. They were leaving for home tomorrow and he needed to pack.

“See you in Monte Carlo,” Roger said behind him.

“Sí,” Rafa confirmed and walked away without looking back. He couldn’t stand more pain in that moment.

-

Later in him room when he had finally gone through the analysis and videos with Toni, he retreated into his room, because his stomach was once again starting to bother him. It had a lot to do with anxiety and stress and in the moment Rafa couldn’t stop stressing about the fact that Roger knew. He didn’t tell anybody about that, because he didn’t want to stir panic, or worse scare Roger into telling everybody right away.

He took a pill for stomach acid and his last suppressant. As he moved to put the empty bottle down, something caught his attention. The expiry date was written on the cap of the bottle and it was the first time Rafa noticed an expiry date on pills. He didn’t know they had one. He looked at the date printed out and felt his heart momentarily stop when he saw 15/3/05 printed on top. He checked his watch. It clearly said April 2nd. Cold panic gripped at him and just as he moved to go yell for his mum, he remembered the doctor telling him not to get too many bottles at once, because they would eventually stop working. Only his mother didn’t hear that, because she wasn’t there and she was the one to go buy the suppressants. Rafa didn’t worry back then, he told himself he would use them until they expired and then buy new ones, but a year went by and he had forgotten.

If the suppressants had stopped working almost half a month ago, he should have been in heat by now, Rafa thought. Even though he had been feeling the symptoms of the upcoming heat for the last few days, which was earlier than normal, and his stomach was hurting which had become a sign, he still wasn’t feeling the real signs.

He pulled his old laptop from the suitcase and used a cable to connect to the painfully slow interned at the hotel. He researched for a few minutes and relaxed once he found out that the pills usually lasted for a little longer than what the expiry date said. But since he had no idea when the pills actually stopped working, his heat could hit him at any time, which meant it was dangerous to travel the next day.

He would have to tell his family about it, because there was no way he would walk around the airport in fear of everybody being able to smell him and getting judgemental looks in return. But he wasn’t sure if getting annoyed looks by his family would be any better. This would be the second time he managed to fuck up his heat cycle and his parents wouldn’t be impressed.

Rafa resisted the urge to push his face into the pillow and scream until his vocal chords broke. Instead he made himself stand up and go back to the living room of the suite, telling his parents that even at the age of eighteen he still wasn’t competent enough to keep track of the date on the pills.

-

There was a lot of eye rolling and not even as much of screaming as Rafa expected. After giving the lessons about him having to be more responsible, his agent stood up and left the suite to go negotiate with the reception if they could prolong their stay here for as long as they needed to. His mom argued that he should be given his own room and after minutes of arguing from which Rafa escaped into the bathroom, his agent went down again and got Rafa a single bed room.

Rafa was aware that this would cost his family a lot of money and the guilt was already eating up at his insides. But he knew that nothing could be done differently, especially because he woke up in the middle of the night, sweaty and hard in his pyjamas, dreams about Roger still on the edge of his mind. He cursed and stood up, stumbling towards the bathroom.

His expression looked back at him from the mirror, his face flushed, lips red and his hair a curly mess on top of his head. His eyes seemed unfocused and as Rafa slipped a hand inside his boxer shorts, he knew it was truly starting.

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get through the rest of the night. Minutes seemed like hours in the haze of need and unfulfilling pleasure. Roger couldn’t seem to leave his mind and Rafa was getting more and more desperate with each passing moment, thinking about what he could have, but didn’t.

When somebody knocked on his door, Rafa’s wrist watched read six in the morning. It was already dawn outside, the sky turning a beautiful shade of pink-orange. The sheets of his bed were drenched in sweat and other fluids and Rafa felt incredibly tired, the need and pain mingling into incredible frustration.

“Qué?” he yelled out, his muscles feeling too weak to stand up.

“Raf, it’s me,” his sister said. This was one of the rare tournaments Maribel came to. She was still at school and their parents didn’t let her miss the lessons, but Rafa couldn’t feel more thankful at that moment. Their parents had let her come as a reward for her good grades. “I’ve got food for you, and mom wants me to ask you something.”

Rafa groaned, but he felt starved, his stomach clenching painfully against the emptiness. Heat took a lot of energy, leaving him weak and tired for days after it was over. He stood up, picked his boxers up from the floor and lazily pulled them up his legs. He used the sheet to wrap around his body, his sister seeing what a mess he was, was the last thing he wanted. Maribel still hadn’t presented herself and everybody thought she was a beta like everybody else. Rafa hoped it stayed this way. Their parents wouldn’t be able to take another surprise.

“Hey,” Rafa mumbled and let her inside the room, before he made sure to lock the door. He knew his smell was strong at the moment and he didn’t want any alpha in the hotel causing a tantrum trying to get into his room. Rafa was disgusted at the thought alone.

“How did you know I was hungry?” Rafa asked. How did she even know he had gone into his heat during the night?

For a moment she seemed reluctant to tell him, before taking a deep breath. “Roger Federer came to our suite.”

Rafa breathed in deeply. “He what?” Even through the heat gathering all around him, he felt a cold chill run through his body.

“About an hour ago. He said he could smell you. Papa told him to mind his own business, but Roger said he was just worried about you, because your smell is so strong. It’s true, Raf, even I can clearly smell you.”

“So, what,” Rafa growled, “was he walking around the hotel during the night, sniffing in front of people’s rooms? How is he even in this hotel?”

“He said it woke him up.”

Rafa buried his face into his hands, shame spreading through him. If Roger was able to smell him, so was probably any other alpha. Maribel seemed to understand what he was thinking about. She went to put a hand on Rafa’s shoulder, but stopped herself at the last moment, knowing how sensitive Rafa was. “Raf, he’s just next door to you, I don’t think anybody else smelled you.”

“You don’t know that.” A few cursed followed, but he stopped himself when he saw how Maribel flinched.

She spoke up carefully. “Look, we’ll discuss that later. We just need to make sure you’re okay first. Um, well,” she blushed right to the tips of her ears, “Roger offered to help you if you wanted to. Toni told him off, not very nicely, but mama thinks it would be a good idea.”

Rafa’s jaw dropped open, his heart stopping for a second before going completely wild. He shuddered and even as his mind rebelled, his body clearly seemed to be liking the idea.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii   
> once again, thank you for waiting for my slow updates...  
> this one is really short, but the next chapter is coming this weekend, and i'll try to make it longer and extra good for you :)  
> enjoy :)

He was at complete loss of words, not knowing where to even start protesting.

“He… he- offered? Just like that? I-“

“Mum sent me out of the room, so I don’t know exactly what they were talking about, but yes, I guess so.” She was clearly uncomfortable having this conversation, but they had a great connection and it was easier for Rafa to speak about this to her than to his mum, dad, or even Toni.

Rafa could feel the beginning of the second wave start deep in his tummy, clearly triggered by the thought of Roger. Only, he couldn’t accept the offer. “No,” he said, right away before he could change his mind.

Maribel frowned. “But you’re going to suffer otherwise, Raf!” she exclaimed. Rafa didn’t know quite how to explain it to her that this was his only chance. “Mama called Carlos, but he said no. I think he actually left yesterday. And Roger is the only other alpha you know.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Rafa hissed. It was becoming harder and harder to concentrate on the conversation and he wondered if it would be rude to ask his sister to get out, because keeping his hand off his crotch was becoming the best exercise in self-control he had ever experienced.

“That’s his decision, not yours.”

“Look, I’m not going to be that guy,” he said, looking away. This was only partly true though. The truth was a whole lot simpler and more painful too. He liked Roger too much to only have him once and never again. He remembered how attached to Carlos he had become, how he couldn’t resist his smell for months and how obedient he was to his every word. Even now, there was a sharp stab of pain at the thought of Carlos not being here when he so clearly needed him.

But he didn’t like Carlos before, and with his feelings for Roger so strong, he couldn’t imagine how painful the aftermath would be for him. It would leave him physically and emotionally completely drained and unable to play tennis.

But still, with his body so influenced by the heat it was difficult to turn an offer like that. The rational part of his brain knew that even though going through his heat with Roger wouldn’t be exactly smart it was his best possible chance. It would be far easier for him if he found somebody he would never have to see again, but with his face becoming known around the world, there was no guarantee that the word wouldn’t spread. He couldn’t afford that.

Rafa was torn between two chances presented to him. Maribel was looking at him, having no answer to Rafa’s last words. She was clearly uncomfortable here in this small room and Rafa realised his scent must really be strong if he managed to make a beta, and not a fully grown one, uncomfortable. The strength of his scent was strongly connected to the strength of his heat and he realised that this one would be a hell to get through.

His will-power still won at least this one battle against his body. As an omega he needed to learn that as soon as possible. “No. Tell him to stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong and tell mum to stop making decision for me. It’s fucking annoying.”

He turned away, before her sad face could change his mind. He knew she only wanted the best for him, but he wondered if having his heart broken was really better than suffering through one more heat. He still clearly remembered last year’s agony when he decided to go through his heat alone. It was probably the most painful and frustrating experience of his life, but unsurprisingly he would choose that over getting humiliated and broken-hearted any time.

“Okay,” Maribel murmured. “Call into our room if you need anything, okay? And eat the food.” She went to the door. Just as she gripped the door knob she turned around, getting the same expression on her face as when she didn’t want to say something but had to. “I didn’t want to scare you with that, but Toni and Rafael agree that there’s no way you’ll be able to play the clay season after this. I thought they were exaggerating, but seeing you like that, and only after the first wave, I think they might be right. Just- just think about it again, okay?”

Rafa didn’t answer. He turned away, not wanting to show the fear these words woke deep inside his core.

“No,” he said again, but right after she closed the door behind her, Rafa gripped his hair tightly, having to physically restrain himself not to scream out in frustration. He hasn’t thought about that. If he took the exactly right number of suppressants the strength and length of the heat would be reduced, making it easier for him to go through it. He would spend it in their beach house without any alpha scents around him to cause more chemical reactions inside his body.

Here in the hotel, Rafa quickly started to smell the alphas, which made his will-power slowly slip away with the thoughts of possibilities he had. At the beach house there would be no temptations. Here, there were many. And the strongest one, Roger.

Rafa started to believe that Roger was in fact just next door to him, because out of all the smells, his was the strongest and the most delicious to Rafa. He knew that the first wave was the simplest for him. The longer the heat stretched on, more frustrated, desperate and needy he would become. He would eventually become a completely different person, one, that didn’t care about anything but pleasure. And Rafa was afraid of that. He was afraid of what he might do after losing control.

He questioned his choices again, but after throwing the duvets off his overheated body and reaching down to bring himself to another unsatisfactory orgasm, he knew that despite the pain, he made the right decision. Or so he thought.


	11. Chapter 11

At around eight in the morning, after he woke up from a restless twenty-minute nap, he heard shouting in front of his room. He couldn’t think clearly anymore, drowning in the mix of the smells surrounding him. It was like the smell alone was enough to get his exhausted body up and into the arms of the first alpha he saw. Only, his mind wasn’t done fighting.

Being an omega, his mind had to be stronger than his body. Ever since he first presented, it had always been a battle of his mind against his body.

The noise of fighting pulled him out of the haze and he forced his mind to pay attention to what was happening. He first reacted to the sound of Roger yelling. He couldn’t make out his words, but he felt he was angry. It was a weird feeling, but Roger’s anger seemed to be spreading inside of him too, causing displeasure.

He made himself stand up and dragged himself to the door. His sight was darkening, and he was almost too weak to make it to the door. When he felt his palm wrap around the door handle, the feeling cold in his hands, it woke him out of the gaze and he questioned if this was a good idea.

Yes, said the voice inside his head, your alpha is displeased.

Rafa unlocked the door and pulled it open, barely getting to see what was happening outside, before a body slammed into his, pressing him against the wall. He whimpered, the smell of an alpha completely overwhelming him, wiping out all of his other senses. Only, the smell wasn’t Roger’s, and a part of him wanted to push the man away, but he didn’t have the strength.

Thankfully, the source of heat and smell was suddenly gone and Rafa, half disappointed, half relieved and barely lucid anymore, slid down the wall to sit. He felt dizzy and the world around seemed to be swaying. After seconds of questioning where he was, the fight still going on caught his attention. Rafa noticed Roger first and his whole body seemed to go on fire at one single look at Roger fighting for him.

The Swiss held another man by the throat, pinned against the wall and it took Rafa longer than it should to identify the other man as Carlos.

“Carlos,” he gasped, scrambling to stand up. “No, no, Roger, leave him. Roger, please, let him go-“

It was a mess of words, Rafa still trying to stay in the thing and not letting himself get lost in the smells. The fight in between both alphas was releasing more hormones and the smell was even stronger. Rafa was getting drunk on it.

Roger looked at him, eyes darker than even before and Rafa knew that he wasn’t really seeing him. He knew that all three of them were under the strong influence of hormones and as strange as it was, he felt the most under control of the three. He ran back inside the room and picked up the phone.

He knew that the alphas would only leave him alone for as long as they were fighting, so he needed to hurry up. Even as he heard Roger and Carlos screaming at each other, the grunts and yells that accompanied the fight, a part of Rafa felt satisfied that somebody wanted him and was even willing to fight for it.

His mum picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?” she asked.

“Mum!” he exclaimed.

“Good morning, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Mum, Carlos and Roger- they are fighting, I can’t do anything.”

“Ok, where are you?”

“In the room, they are outside. Mum, I’m scared they’ll hurt each other.”

It was strange how the sense of panic sobered him up a little bit. Two of his friends, one, who has betrayed him, another, who he liked, but friends nonetheless, were fighting, and the fight wasn’t controlled anymore. It was pure instinct. A competition of who could win their prize.

“I’ll send Toni and dad,” she said after a moment. “Stay in the room.”

“Okay,” he whispered. The noises outside hadn’t stopped. Rafa had left the door to his room unlocked. He was afraid that if neither of them could get in, they could kill each other in frustration, and even as weak as he was, he could perhaps still help if something alarming happened.

Rafa hated all of this. How horny he was still feeling, even in this mess. How much he liked two men fighting over him, while they were probably about ready to kill each other, and the fact that neither of them would even look at him if he wasn’t giving away the smell they couldn’t resist hurt.

Rafa listened carefully for the next few minutes, his desperation momentarily forgotten. It took less than a minute before he recognized Toni’s and his dad’s voices in the mess of noise. There was more yelling Rafa couldn’t make out and suddenly as if somebody pulled the switch, everything was quiet.

Rafa carefully stood up from the bed, worriedly wondering if he should check what was happening. Nothing happened for a few seconds and just as he started walking towards the door, they opened and Toni stepped in, the expression on his face showing he was beyond pissed. He slammed the door shut behind him and Rafa flinched away, his hearing more sensitive than usual.

“Rafael, I have enough of this nonsense,” he yelled. “I will not have you ruining your career _and_ causing fights in the hotels!” He quieted down when he noticed Rafa was scared of the yelling. “This is ridiculous,” he continued in a quieter but still harsh and disappointed tone. “Your mother told me you weren’t comfortable with this, but she clearly hasn’t done as much research on this as I have. Heats happen because your body craves sex, Rafael, and I’m tired of having to walk on eggshells around you, trying to keep you from the information you will have to learn sooner or later. Your body will do anything to get what it wants and even though you might think you get to decide what you want, you don’t. Your body does!”

Rafa watched him with wide eyes and Toni sighed, sitting down on the bed beside him.

“Look, when you presented, I sat down with your mum and dad. We decided that we would do everything to get you to a professional tennis player if you still wanted that. You’ve grown into an incredibly strong man, but fighting your heats is not something you can do, especially not with the life style you live. I’ll give you half a minute to decide who I’m gonna let in, Roger or Carlos, I don’t trust Roger in any way, but he’s the best chance- well, after what Carlos said, or you can say goodbye to the rest of this year. The choice is yours, Rafael, but when I decided to coach you, I would have never thought you would let something you are ashamed of drag you down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i know this is shitty, but i somehow need to get around my writer's block on this :(  
> also, i'm working on an incredibly long one shot, which i want to finish before Christmas, so there won't be any updates until i finish that, but i promise it will be worth it :)  
> thank you :)


	12. Chapter 12

**JUNE 2005**

Looking back at it, Rafa knew from the beginning that he had no choice. His body wouldn’t let him. Neither would his family, apparently, no matter how much they had always told him that he would always be able to control what happens to his body. 

But they were right. He was being too stubborn to admit to himself that he needed an alpha during his heat, and that spending it without would take a big toll on him. But he just had to try, because he knew that if he hadn’t tried, he would never have forgiven himself.

Having to submit to his body was all worth it as he held the trophy in his arms in Paris, just having won his first grandslam, barely two months after he almost risked his season because of his heat. He hugged the trophy close and kissed it, thinking back at how difficult that decision was for him back in the hotel. 

He had to choose between someone he liked uncontrollably and someone he had already spent one heat with and knew well. But his state at that moment allowed him little to no choice and the name he spoke was the person his body wanted most.

From that moment to the moment Roger walked inside the room, little made any sense. Rafa was almost out of his mind with how horny he was and even up to this beautiful day in June he couldn’t remember everything that had happened that night or in the week afterwards. He could only remember the pleasure and how great it was. How Roger knew exactly what he liked, wrecking him completely. 

Up on the podium, holding the trophy in his arms, when he should be thinking about his amazing achievement, how amazing the whole clay court season was to him, he just simply couldn’t get Roger’s face out of his mind instead. After his heat passed, Rafa was too ashamed to speak to Roger. He knew how he could get during heats. He simply wasn’t himself. He said stuff he never would if he was lucid and was completely shameless.

Thankfully he had no problems with what he was most afraid of. He couldn’t stop thinking what would happen if the need to obey Roger even after the heat would be stronger that the desire to win. But something was different this time than it was with Carlos. For the first few days after the heat he missed Roger terribly. He needed closeness and warmth, which he was denied because he flew out to Monte Carlo the next day with his team and family. 

He was thankful for that. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if he let himself get close to Roger as he did with Carlos after his first heat. This was in Rafa’s opinion what made it easier to beat Roger in the semifinals of the second major of the year. 

He loved doing what he loved, he loved standing here on this podium with the trophy in his hands and a genuine smile on his face, but he still had to face Roger. Two days ago, after the semifinals, he had run out of the locker room before Roger got there, not even completely sure why. But in some way, he felt as if he had betrayed the Swiss. 

And so he made a promise to himself, while still up there in front of the whole world. He would visit Roger tonight, he had to apologize for avoiding him and thank him for what he did back in Miami. If Rafa had been forced to go through his heat alone, he wouldn’t have won this tournament. He would be lying at home, watching somebody win Roland Garros and cursing himself for his stupidity. 

*

His team and family wanted to go out celebrating which almost ruined his plan. 

“Mum, can we go tomorrow? I’m really tired and I really need to speak to Roger.”

She raised her eyebrows. “To Roger?”

“Yes... I- We hadn’t spoken since... You know.”

Her eyebrows went even higher, but the expression on her face turned from surprised to understanding.

“Oh, of course. But can’t you do that tomorrow?”

Rafa thought about that too. But he had made a promise he had to keep. “I’m afraid he’ll fly out before I even wake up.”

“Right. Okay, go on then. I’ll tell the others. We’ll order from hotel service. Do you want anything?”

“Fish,” he mumbled, already leaving towards the door. He heard her laugh fondly and say a quiet ‘of course’.

His heart started beating wildly as soon as he left the safety of his room. What would he even say to Roger? And for sure Mirka would be there. His heart squeezed painfully. He hadn’t even thought about that before. 

At the beginning of the tournament, he had asked around the locker room to get the number of Roger’s room. Surprisingly, it wasn’t difficult to get it. It seemed as if the whole locker room had already visited Roger. He wasn’t exactly sure how that made him feel.

He went two floors higher and right to the room 708, not letting himself stop for a second or rethink this whole thing. He knew that as soon as he started overthinking, he would turn around and leave and that wasn’t fair. Not to him, not to Roger. 

He knocked and made three steps away from the door. He wrung his hands nervously, stepping from foot to foot and trying to come up with something good to say. His English, as usually, betrayed him.

The door suddenly opened. Roger was standing in front of him suddenly, in a soft-looking pair of sweatpants and a thin T-shirt, his bored face turning into a surprised one when he noticed Rafa.

“Um, hola, Roger,” Rafa mumbled, his face immediately flushing. Roger stared back at him, his face completely impassive. 

“Hi,” he finally answered, voice indifferent. 

That was something Rafa didn’t expect and he suddenly forgot what he wanted to say in the first place. He needed a few seconds to get himself together.

“I... Um, I can come in?”

Roger calculated him for a few seconds, before he finally nodded and stepped away from the door. Rafa cautiously followed him, beyond confused by Roger’s behaviour, even though there was something at the back of his mind, already telling him why Roger was acting so cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating during the holidays, but i had a lot to do :)  
> thank you for reading :) <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me, updating so quickly ;)  
> thank you for the support and i really hope to get back on track with this story soon, i'm still in a bit of a writer's block but i slowly see the plot :)  
> i'll try to update more regularly, i promise

Rafa sat down on the bed carefully. He felt very unwelcomed here and he kept looking around the room to see if something was openly screaming at him to get out. There was nothing though, only Roger, standing a couple of steps away from him, standing up and looking down at Rafa with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“I...” Rafa started and waited until Roger’s attention was completely on him before continuing. “I just want say thank you, no? For Miami.”

“You left while I was in the shower!” Roger exclaimed suddenly and Rafa winced. It was true, but he had hoped Roger would understand.

“S-sorry,” he stammered, nervously cracking his knuckles. “My mum said time to go. If I wait for you, not sure if I can leave.  We- we need be close to alphas after is over. And I not want to... to-” he struggled to find the right word, “bother you more.”

Roger sighed, looking so completely defeated that Rafa felt even more guilty. He bit his lip, not knowing how to express everything he was feeling and explain just why he had to leave. Roger said down on the bed beside him, but there was still distance between them Rafa didn’t like.

“It affects me too, you know. I needed to be close to you afterwards too. If you think a week of sex with you didn’t change me in some way you couldn’t be more wrong. So I guess I was just hurt.”

Rafa looked at him with his eyes wide open, his heart giving a strange, surprised jump in his chest.

“I thought was just the heat,” Rafa mumbled, “just my hormones.” He looked away guiltily. Hurting Roger was never his intention. Not in any way.

Roger laughed, but it wasn’t real. “Your hormones sure played an important part, but I wouldn’t have sensed you so strongly if I hadn’t liked you before, Rafa.”

Rafa wasn’t sure if he heard this correctly. He could only stare at Roger for a few seconds, his eyes never blinking. When Roger stared just as constantly back, Rafa was the first to avert his gaze, blood colouring his cheeks red. He could feel his face burning, while still trying to make sense of what Roger had said.

“You- you liked me?” he stammered suddenly. Roger sighed and rolled his eyes, scooting those few inches that were separating them closer. He brought his hand up and touched Rafa’s cheek gently, but without any hesitation.

“Of course I did. I thought I was so obvious to the whole world, how haven’t you noticed it before?”

Rafa thought back to all the times he had spent with Roger, but he couldn’t think of a single moment when he would think about Roger liking him. The thought alone seemed absurd and impossible and Rafa had problems believing if that was the truth or just some trick being played on him.

“What... What about your girlfriend?” he whispered. He didn’t know why he was whispering, but Roger’s hand was still on his cheek, fingertips running over his skin gently and being loud didn’t belong into their proximity.

Roger sighed, his hand falling away and Rafa immediately missed the warmth it had provided.

“She’s a beta, we can’t bond and you can imagine how pissed she was when we... well, when we were together. But I can’t live without her, and thankfully she knows that. She’s also nice enough to understand that I couldn’t help giving in to you. She’s still pissed at me though, that’s why she isn’t here.”

Rafa’s heart, which has only seconds before opened up like a flower to the sun, broke, feeling like it had fallen into his stomach, and Rafa moved a little away from Roger, feeling completely betrayed. He couldn’t reason with himself in that moment. He knew well enough that what he and Roger had couldn’t even go public. He didn’t know if Roger even wanted to commit himself to him, but after he said he liked him, Rafa sort of expected it.

“Oh,” was everything he was able to say. Roger immediately seemed to notice exactly what was wrong. He wrapped an arm around Rafa’s waist and hugged him.

“Raf, don’t be sad, please. I can’t leave her, she means everything to me. She’s my agent, I can’t even travel without her.”

“Okay,” Rafa replied. He could pretend to agree, he could pretend to be okay.

“I like you, okay? I really do and I don’t know how much you remember, but the sex was the best I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.” His voice was turning from comforting to suggestive and Rafa was really confused with how quickly all of this was happening.

He pulled away from their hug. “What you mean?” he asked carefully.

“I mean I’d really like to see you every once in a while, I could even help you out with your future heats if you want too.” In his words Rafa could already sense the beginning of a ‘but’. And Roger didn’t disappoint. “But Mirka can’t know.”

Rafa, too young and too stupid to know what’s good for him, took whatever he could. He nodded.

“Okay,” he said. This wasn’t quite what he wanted, but it was something and he had after all hurt Roger by avoiding him. It made a lot of sense that he couldn’t have the whole of him.

Roger smiled, relief overcoming his features. Seeing his bright smile, Rafa couldn’t help but smile back.

Roger leaned in close to him, his lips ghosting over Rafa’s for a second. Both of them held their breaths, hair rising in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“Hey, congratulations on the title,” Roger said and Rafa laughed, before filling the space in between their lips shyly. Roger kissed back and they hesitantly kissed for a few seconds. There was no fire like back in Miami, but at least Rafa could now fully enjoy in this, knowing he won’t forget it immediately after it happens.

“Mmm, I love kissing you,” Roger mumbled against Rafa’s lips. “Your lips are so soft.” Rafa gave a soft sigh of approval, bringing one of his hands up to tangle it into Roger’s hair. He had a strong feeling he had done that in Miami too.

They kissed like that for a few minutes, slowly, keeping it completely innocent. Rafa was the first one to break away.

“I need to go,” he mumbled. He didn’t want to, but he knew his family would wonder where he is. He also wanted his fish, and something felt unexplainably wrong about the thought of spending the night in Roger’s bad.

“Okay,” Roger agreed and parted from him, just as unwillingly. “Call me when you get to Halle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are my inspiration, so pleaseeeeee :) <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a promised update :)  
> i hope you like it :) next update coming some time next week

**JULY 2005**

They had no time to meet in Halle so they decided on Wimbledon. Rafa felt strangely rebellious, sneaking out of his room behind their parents’ back late in the evening, knowing they probably wouldn’t like what he was doing.

Rafa was disappointingly already out of the tournament, but he wasn’t too sad about it. He was allowed to stay here for a few days more to practice on grass and, what seemed most important to him, watch Roger in his empire. He deserved it after all, he had an amazing clay court season. Toni’s words.

He was nervous meeting Roger for the first time after their little chat back in Paris. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to define their relationship. Roger had, after all, just called it ‘this’ and Rafa was going mad with being unsure of what he meant to Roger. He didn’t want to be called a lover, much less a secretive one, but the word ‘boyfriend’ really sounded childish and something Roger would never call him, when he really thought about it.

He didn’t want to unsettle Roger in any way though and he decided to keep this little discomfort to himself. Roger had offered to help him with his heats and meet him even when he wasn’t in one. Rafa couldn’t ask for more.

It was about eleven in the evening after Rafa walked a few blocks and stopped in front of Roger’s house. He knew Roger had had a match that day, but the Swiss had convinced him that he would be more than ready to meet him in the evening.

Rafa, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward in front of the giant house where Roger’s whole family and team was staying, knocked quickly on the door, before he could change his mind. For a few seconds nothing moved and Rafa, only then noticing that all the lights inside were turned off and the house seemed completely abandoned, panicked, thinking he had come to the wrong house.

But then a light on the first floor turned on and Rafa could hear quiet, but quick footsteps and a few seconds later the door opened.

Roger was standing in the doorway, clad just in a white bathrobe. Rafa almost snorted. Of course a fancy bathrobe was something Roger would wear.

“I’m sorry,” Roger said, smiling. “I was just showering, you’re a little early, you know?” His eyebrow was teasingly raised.

Rafa looked down at his watch and blushed. He was indeed a few minutes early, but it wasn’t his fault he could barely wait for this time to come, was it?

“I… Sorry?” he asked, and Roger laughed in response. Rafa relaxed. He was beyond pleased that he could make Rafa laugh, no matter the reason.

Roger opened the door wider. “Come inside,” he said and stepped inside. Rafa gladly did so, even with a little bit of hesitance. This was all so new to him.

“Where is everybody?” he asked, looking around Roger’s house. Everything was spotlessly clean, a complete opposite of his own family’s house. You couldn’t even tell if anybody was staying here, while they had made the house their own, even putting up a Spanish national flag.

“Mirka convinced everybody to go to the opera. She knows I don’t like it that much, plus I told her I was tired,” Roger explained.

“Oh,” Rafa nodded. He was once again reminded that what Roger was doing was cheating on his girlfriend with him. He felt a small stab of guilt deep in his belly.

Roger took his hand, intertwining their fingers, and Rafa immediately felt a little better.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” he murmured right into Rafa’s ear, his voice low and seductive and Rafa’s stomach clenched with something hot, but he also froze, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything. It seemed stupid. He was nineteen, a grown-up and he knew that when adults met up like that, it was usually for sex.

Roger noticed his hesitation right away, but he didn’t say anything about it, afraid he would embarrass Rafa or scare him.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked instead. “A beer, maybe? We haven’t really celebrated your victory.”

“Okay,” Rafa reluctantly agreed. It would at least take his mind off things and relax him a little bit. He knew he shouldn’t really drink, his parents and Toni were very strict about it, but he wasn’t in the tournament anymore, one beer was not a lot of alcohol and even thought he didn’t carry it very well, he was completely sure Roger wouldn’t take advantage of him.

Roger disappeared into the kitchen and Rafa carefully sat down on a very white couch, uncomfortably aware of his shoes possibly leaving stains on the white carpet.

“There you go.” Roger was back quickly, pressing a cold can of beer into Rafa’s hand. His bathrobe, the belt having loosened a bit, seemed very teasing to Rafa and he wondered if Roger was doing this on purpose.

Rafa carefully cracked his can open, thankful for all the diet coke practice he had got and clanked his can against Roger’s.

“To many more French Opens for you, and perhaps a few for me too.”

Rafa smiled and drank a few sips of a drink he never really liked. It gave him some time to get used to this though. To being in a house with somebody who actually liked him, and who wanted to go upstairs with him. Rafa felt himself blush and he looked away to hide it. Roger chuckled and Rafa figured that hiding didn’t really work.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Roger said, drinking more of his beer.

Rafa thought. “How this is weird,” he finally answered, deciding on keeping it honest.

“What is weird?” Roger asked. Rafa was a little stunned by how much attention Roger was paying to him, he actually wasn’t used to someone’s unwavering stare on him, at least while he was talking. Toni kept looking at him alright whenever he was playing.

“This,” Rafa said, motioning around him for help. He didn’t have enough vocabulary to describe everything he was feeling. “Meeting like this.”

Roger raised his eyebrows again. “Like this? You mean, like a date?”

 Rafa drank a little more. When he was drunk, he spoke a lot more, perhaps this would also be the case with English.

“This is not date,” he said. “Date is… romantic. This is just to meet… and well…” he trailed off, not knowing how to say they were meeting for sex without actually having to say it.

Roger emptied his can before speaking again. “I didn’t know you wanted romantic.”

Rafa, fearing he had upset Roger, almost jumped up in the air. “No, no, not want, is not a problem, this is okay, too. But I- so sorry, Roger, I try to explain, but my English is not very good.” Roger smiled fondly, and immense relief spread all over Rafa’s body. Okay, Roger wasn’t upset. “Is just… Dates are easier, because you can just talk, no?”

“If you want to just talk, that’s fine by me, we have about three hours,” Roger said.

“No!” Rafa immediately exclaimed. “I want to… you know. I just… I never do it outside of heat,” he admitted, a little ashamed. Roger’s smile widened, but it wasn’t in a bad way even though Rafa’s cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

“Really?” Roger asked but saw Rafa was getting more and more embarrassed and decided not to push it. “I’m sorry, I just never thought this was even a chance. You’re so pretty and you have a really nice personality, I don’t understand how alphas aren’t standing in a line for you.”

Rafa couldn’t possibly think his cheeks could get any redder, and they couldn’t, the blush spread into his ears and down his chest.

“I… I, thank you.” He stumbled over his words. “We go upstairs?” he asked, and Roger laughed, taking both of their empty cans and throwing them into the general direction of the kitchen.

“Let’s go.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the promised update :)  
> everything that's in italics are Rafa's memories ;) just as you all wanted  
> gracias for reading :)

Roger took Rafa upstairs and into one of the many bedrooms there. The bedroom was completely untouched and when he looked to Roger with his eyebrows raised questioningly, Roger at least had the decency to blush.

“This room’s empty,” he explained quickly, walking closer to Rafa with every word. Unknowingly, Rafa took steps away from him, until his legs hit the bed and he tumbled down on top of it. He didn’t know what he was scared of, and Roger thankfully didn’t saw him backing away as a sign of fear, but as teasing to get Roger closer to the bed. “And you know I can’t do it where Mirka and I sleep together.”

A cold fist crawled up Rafa’s chest and squeezed his heart in a deathly grip. But after two short conversations they’ve had here and back in Paris, Rafa knew that he should get used to Roger mentioning Mirka often. This shouldn’t surprise him. She was Roger’s girlfriend after all.

He decided to keep all of this to himself and instead put a smile on his lips, crawling further up the bed to create more space for Roger. Roger climbed after him, stopping after he was on top of Rafa, holding himself over him with hands pressed to both sides of Rafa’s head.

Rafa shivered all over, staring up into Roger’s face, his eyes wide and lips parted, remembering Roger was still probably waiting for him to say something. “Is okay,” he murmured. In that moment something took over him. He would have never expected a wave of confidence so strong to ever strike him off court. But he suddenly really wanted to reach up with one hand, pull Roger down and kiss him.

And that’s exactly what he did, all the hesitation disappearing into thin air. As soon as their lips touched, so much different than in Paris, because these kisses were leading to something and they were hot and fierce, Rafa felt the memories from Miami come back to him.

_He remembered telling Toni to let Roger in and to get Carlos away – to do anything he deemed necessary to get him away. Not a minute passed, before Roger was on him, burying his face into Rafa’s neck, inhaling sharply, already pulling away at Rafa’s hastily thrown on clothes._

He gasped at the memory of Roger being _so_ dominant and an omega instinct kicked in immediately. He threw his head back, arching his neck, and Roger, knowing exactly what Rafa had wanted, kissed the skin there, licking and biting over the place he had once bitten into.

_Rafa was so close to coming. He was barely coherent, he didn’t know which time that was. He only knew that he was feeling so good and that he never wanted this to end. Except then it was getting too much, the pleasure and the oversensitivity overcame him and when Roger growled, thrusting into him even quicker and deeper, his knot starting to expand, Rafa wasn’t even there anymore. There was sudden pain in his neck, a sharp stab through the pleasure and Rafa realized that Roger was biting into him. He came immediately, without even touching himself. He passed out, but he indistinctively remembered coming again after Roger had knotted._

Rafa hardened at the thoughts of that alone. He didn’t know Roger had bit him. During heats every injury healed a lot faster, especially bruises and bite marks. It was no wonder the mark had disappeared before Rafa was lucid enough to take a look in the mirror. But now, remembering exactly what had happened, the place of the bite mark was buzzing lightly, like electric current was running through his skin.

Did Roger know he had bit him? Had a bond formed? There were so many questions Rafa needed answers to, but not right now.

He gasped and pressed himself closer to Roger, encouraging him. Roger slipped one arm under his waist and held him tightly, while he kissed all over Rafa’s neck, stopping just at the hem of Rafa’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” he asked and Rafa was appreciating how Roger was trying to take this slow. He nodded eagerly and sat up to remove his shirt.

Roger seemed to appreciate miles of Rafa’s naked skin. His eyes darkened, and the further he stared at Rafa, predatory-like, the more his irises got orange-red. Rafa suddenly felt really self-conscious. Nobody had ever stared at him like that.

_In the first few waves Roger had fucked him from behind. It was the easiest position to fulfil a heat, and a very pleasing one. He couldn’t see Roger’s face, but that didn’t seem important when he was almost dying from the pleasure and the need to get more, more, more._

_After the first few waves were over, and Rafa was already sore all over, his arse burning, muscles tired and overstretched, cock raw from getting rubbed against the sheets, but still needy, Roger had turned him around on his back, pushed his thighs apart really gently and settled in between them. He got lube, because even though Rafa was still wet, the amount of his natural slick had dropped considerably as the periods of time in between heat waves got longer._

_Roger made sure both of them were thoroughly wet before he pressed inside gently, staring down at Rafa’s face for signs of too much discomfort. Rafa exhaled lowly, squeezing his sore inner muscles, moving his hips up and down to match Roger’s rhythm and find the right position of Roger’s cock inside him. Then it was just about the slow burn, letting painful pleasure consume him until he didn’t even know his name anymore, only being able to call out Roger’s._

“Roger, Roger,” he gasped even now. Roger was kissed down his chest, stopping at his nipples, kissing over both of them, before taking one into his mouth and sucking. Rafa’s back arched, his arms wrapping around Roger’s still clothed back, nails digging into Roger’s skin through the material.

Roger chuckled at the reaction, Rafa’s body was so god damn responsive. He loved it. He kissed lower and lower, leaving a trail of light bite marks and dark hickeys. Rafa was squirming under him, his hands now tightly gripping Roger’s upper arms.

“You okay?” he asked, slightly shaking out of the primal instinct that had taken hold of him. Rafa nodded quickly, hair bouncing on top of his head and Roger had to laugh a little. He kissed Rafa’s hipbones. “Okay. Hey, can I ask you something?”

Rafa nodded and Roger noticed a little uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’ve never really listened well in my sex ed,” Roger chuckled and Rafa’s eyes spread really wide, “so, do you only get wet during the heats or are you wet right now?”

Rafa blushed even redder than he already was. Roger’s eyes slid down his flushed, overheated body, a layer of sweat already breaking along the beautiful golden complexion, stopping at his clothed crotch which was undeniably tented.

“Um,” Rafa replied, clearly uncomfortable. He squirmed along the sheets, but Roger’s stare never left him and eventually he was forced to answer. “I’m wet now,” he whispered, looking at Roger from underneath his eyelashes, looking ashamed and nervous, which stabbed at Roger’s heart a little. He climbed back up Rafa’s body and kissed him without hesitation, hips coming down against Rafa’s.

“Fuck,” he swore, “fuck, that’s so hot.”

_At one point, Roger was really interested in Rafa’s arse. He told Rafa to lie on his front, put a pillow beneath his hips, then sat behind him and spent what felt like hours fingering him, almost trying to see how many fingers he could stuff inside him._

Rafa’s ass clenched at the memory and with another wave of arousal a little of his embarrassment and shame disappeared. He kissed Roger deeper and pushed his hips up needily. Roger knew exactly what Rafa wanted, he unbuttoned Rafa’s pants and pushed them down together with his underpants. This time he didn’t ask for permission. He sensed this was okay, that Rafa liked it and wanted it.

Rafa’s legs parted almost on their own to fit Roger’s hand in between them, all traces of shyness gone. Roger’s hand slipped over his hard cock briefly, before travelling further down, gentle fingers slipping over his hole, finding out that Rafa was indeed already wet.

Rafa whimpered at the first touch, legs spreading even further and encouraging Roger to go further.

_Roger made him come with just fingers. He told Rafa to stay still and the Spaniard couldn’t do anything but obey him and tried not to squirm and shy away while Roger’s fingers stroked him inside, pressed along his swollen prostate and didn’t let up until Rafa came with a shout, untouched. Slick was licking out from around Roger’s fingers and Roger made him lick it off._

When Rafa came back from his memory, Roger’s fingers were already inside him. They were both gone, taken by their instincts.

_Rafa was loud during heats. He screamed his throat sore, and when he couldn’t scream anymore, he whimpered and moaned and kept saying Roger’s name like a prayer. It didn’t matter what Roger was doing, everything was good._

This time he kept his mouth shut, nothing but a few whimpers escaping while Roger fucked him with his fingers. He held on to Roger’s upper arm tightly, biting at his own lip. His hips were hitching up and down, trying to take Roger’s fingers in deeper.

He hadn’t felt a foreign touch on his body since the heat. And it wasn’t weird when orgasm quickly started building somewhere deep inside of him. He gave Roger a hurried warning, before he clenched tightly around his fingers and came all over his belly. He panted through it, while Roger still lazily moved his fingers inside.

When Rafa was finally coherent enough to open his eyes again, his first thought was how this was the first time he did something sexual outside of his heat. He blushed immediately, looking down at himself, covered in come and in sweat, realizing that Roger had once again cheated on his girlfriend and he regretted it immediately.

He looked at Roger. The Swiss had his fingers wrapped around his cock which was sticking out from the fold of his bathrobe, stroking himself. Before Rafa could react in any way, Roger let out a strangled moan and came all over Rafa’s tummy, their seed mixing together.

Roger groaned after he was done, falling down beside Rafa and kissed his cheek with a heavy sigh. Rafa still hadn’t gone over the deep panic he fell in suddenly. He grabbed his clothes, and dragged them on, not minding the come still covering his belly.

“I need go,” he said, standing up.

“What’s the hurry?” Roger asked, pulled away from the post-orgasmic haze roughly.

“Que?”

“Where do you need to go?”

“Oh- home, my parents- they gonna worry.”

“Wait, Raf-“

“See you, Roger.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, i'm so sad about yesterday, i really wanted rafa to win, but sadly it wasn't meant to be and we should be really happy and proud of him for reaching the finals <3  
> here's a new chapter, which is absolutely lame because i am completely blocked, and am regretting the decision to start this story so back in the past, because i'm planning on putting the interesting stuff into modern setting, but i want to show you what brought rafa and roger into 2019 being who they, but suddenly it seems that this will become too long, because we've only come to 2006 and i'm gonna have to rethink the whole thing   
> i just really hope i'll be able to finish it because i really liked the idea when it first occurred in my mind :)  
> thank you for bearing with me and reading, love you :) <3

**MARCH 2006**

It went on for almost a year, on and off, with a lot of ups and downs. For Rafa nothing really changed. He liked Roger incredibly and he was over the moon, because every secret meeting was better than no meeting at all. There was the guilt he couldn’t get rid of, but Roger told him not to worry about it every single time, and with every act of pleasure shared in between them, the guilt was a little bit smaller.

He had just come back to playing after suffering a foot injury in the second half of previous year. It was a very similar injury to the one he had suffered in 2004 when he purposely hadn’t gone off suppressants and skipped his heat. But this second time he didn’t do anything wrong and he was still a little bit afraid of the doctor’s prophecy potentially becoming true.

Taking one look at his swollen feet back in October, his doctor said that professional tennis is over for him, but Rafa refused to give up, even as worried and in so much pain as he was.

Roger had spent some of the off-season with him, but while Rafa enjoyed it, it wasn’t half as good as the sneaky moments on the tour, hiding in locker rooms, each other’s hotel rooms or quiet cafes over the city. Maybe it was Rafa’s fault too. He’d been beyond worried about the doctor’s words, falling into a mentally dark place and not quite knowing how to climb out.

Even though the small bone in his foot was healing nicely, his team had decided he should skip the Australian open. Rafa was disappointed, but there were so many chances left, he couldn’t afford to mindlessly head into any battle. Besides, it’s not like his team would have allowed it. Rafa was so thankful for that.

While Roger was in Australia and Rafa was slowly starting to train in January, María Francisca spent a lot of time with him. She was a good friend of his and when people saw them together often, the rumours about them being a couple spread like fire. Rafa asked her if it bothered her. She laughed softly and shook her head.

Rafa felt a little bit guilty. She knew a lot about him, but not that he was an omega. Like a lot of people, she was sure that Rafa was an alpha and Rafa just never bothered to correct her. He was using her but tried desperately not to think about it too much.

Roger and Rafa met after the end of the tournament in Miami. Rafa had gone off his suppressants a few days before to start his heat on the marked day. They have seen each other a few times since Rafa got back to playing, but Rafa went out in early rounds while Roger was on fire and they had no real time to talk or meet in private.

A suite in one of the most prestigious hotels in Miami, which Roger paid, was where they really met after almost three months. Rafa’s heat hasn’t started yet, but they found themselves with nothing to really talk about.

“How’s your feet?” Roger asked, coming from the kitchen and carrying two cans of beer with him. Rafa still didn’t like this horrible drink, but Roger still didn’t know about that.

“I not wanna talk about it,” Rafa mumbled. His foot was fine, but he didn’t like the constant attention this body part of his was receiving. It was like he only consisted of his broken foot, his biceps and his forehand. He hated how easily he was changed into a group of objects.

“I’m sorry,” Roger said. “What do you wanna talk about?”

Rafa shrugged. He didn’t really expect there would be time to talk, but his heat was taking its sweet time coming.

“Congrats for Australian Open,” he finally said. He texted Roger right after his win, he called him the next day, and hugged him with a whispered congratulations the first time they met in person. But he didn’t know what else to say.

Roger chuckled. “Thank you. What were you doing in January?”

While Rafa was depressed he took on a habit of never responding to his messages. Consequently, no matter how many times Roger asked him how he was and what he was doing, he still didn’t know anything about how Rafa spent most of January.

“You know,” Rafa shrugged indecisively, “training.” For a second he considered telling Roger about María Francisca, a part of him wanting to make him jealous, but he immediately reminded himself that making an alpha jealous never ended well. “Practicing… Hang out with friends.”

They were sitting on the couch in the beautiful living room of the suite and Roger scooted closer to him, while Rafa finally opened his beer and took a sip. The tournament was over after all.

“I missed you, you know?” Roger asked quietly and Rafa choked on the sip he just took. He sputtered uselessly for a few seconds and Roger laughed and patted his back. “You okay?”

“I- I’m okay… I missed you too,” he admitted shyly. When Roger was with him in December, even though it was still difficult, coping with his injury was a lot easier. He admitted nothing but the truth.

They talked about unimportant things, then, making small talk while Roger put on the TV. After a few minutes of them sitting at least a meter apart from each other, they slowly started scooting closer and closer to each other, until Rafa was cuddled against Roger’s side and the Swiss threw his arm around Rafa’s shoulder.

“When is it coming?” Roger asked, after an episode of a criminal series was over.

“I not know,” Rafa replied. “I feel a little sick and hot all day, but not… you know… needy.” He almost whispered the last word and Roger found it both cute and heart-breaking how ashamed of all this Rafa was.

He kissed the top of Rafa’s head. “Then we should eat something.” He stood up and took their now empty cans back to the kitchen. Rafa followed him. He had to admit that Roger booked an absolutely marvellous suite. It was a complete opposite of the small and simple hotel his family was staying in. But he couldn’t imagine himself always living in places like this. Sure, he enjoyed it now, but it way too fancy for somebody like him.

“I bought plenty of high-calorie food, I feel like we’re gonna need it.”

“And diet when is over,” Rafa replied with a smile.

Roger chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll burn it all out,” he said with a smirk and Rafa blushed, averting his eyes. Roger chuckled again. He seemed pleased with always being able to make Rafa blush, it was almost addictive, the power he had over him.

Roger prepared them waffles, which they ate with an unnormal amount of Nutella. Rafa could imagine Toni having a cardiac arrest if he saw this. But during heats he usually didn’t have the highest appetite and his mum always told him to eat more before. His diet had been modified for a few weeks before the heat and he had gained a few kilos that would indeed be burned out.

Afterwards they settled on the couch, but it didn’t take very long for Rafa to start getting antsy and squirming all over the place. Roger could immediately tell that Rafa’s heat was starting. The smell he was giving away was suddenly completely different, so much stronger and delicious.

Roger, not being able to help himself, leaned close to Rafa and sniffed at his neck, the Spaniard immediately throwing his head back in an act of presentation and submission. Roger’s teeth skimmed gently over the soft skin of Rafa’s neck, but it was enough to make Rafa shiver all over and cry out in pleasure.

Roger had to force himself to pull away. “Come on, let’s take this to the bedroom.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdfgfjjg i finally got back to writing this :)  
> i remembered how happy i was last year while writing Same Mistakes, and i decided i need something else than endless tennis practice with my broken knees and studying for the exams  
> and i've started writing the sequel to Something Special, but i also wanted to continue this  
> i hope you'll like what's about to happen in this work and bare with me

**APRIL 2006**

This heat was just as intense as his first one, but Rafa enjoyed it a lot more since he didn’t have to worry about so much. He let Roger take him over and over again and between the waves let him take care of him, while he could barely do anything but lie in bed to try and catch his breath and shower when his skin got sticky with sweat.

He started worrying intensively about a month later when he unexplainably started feeling sick all the time, especially in the mornings. He told Roger about it after their Monte Carlo final which Rafa had won in four sets.

Roger, feeling a little down because of his loss carelessly brushed it off. “You’re probably just nervous,” he said and left for Rome.

But Rafa couldn’t just simply ignore it. Sure, his stomach was acting up a lot, but never for so long and so often. And what scared him was that he usually felt sicker in the morning. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what this could mean, he just hoped he was wrong.

He didn’t want to talk to Roger about this over the phone or text. He was afraid it could somehow get out.

María Francisca was the one he finally decided to talk to. He didn’t want to talk to his family or team about it. He was used to covering up sickness and they didn’t notice anything was wrong with him, but the worry was eating him up from the inside and he couldn’t keep it in anymore.

María came to Monte Carlo with him, they had become great friends, but Rafa was strongly suspecting that she expected something more from him. And he couldn’t give her this. So here was another reason he should tell her about his constant sickness and what he thought it meant. He couldn’t keep leading her on.

From Monte Carlo he went to Barcelona, where he won another easy clay court tournament. But he couldn’t find any real satisfaction with the worry gnawing at his insides. He talked to Mary that evening after the final, taking her out into a quiet café he knew quite well in the centre of Barcelona.

By the expression on her face, Rafa was sure she was expecting him to ask her out and he already felt guilty for having to disappoint her.

She ordered a cup of coffee and Rafa was already on the verge of ordering a glass of _sangria_ , but he changed his mind in the last moment and ordered a can of diet coke. Mary smiled at that because she knew how much Rafa liked it.

Rafa sighed and took a lot of time staring emptily through the window, thinking about what to say. María could immediately tell that something wasn’t okay, that’s how well she knew him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to find his eyes with her own.

“I have to tell you something,” Rafa said and finally looked at her. She was a really nice girl and a good friend. If Rafa wasn’t an omega, he would love to date her, but with her being a beta, she wouldn’t be able to satisfy him. And he knew that relationships like that rarely worked out. “I… I think I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes comically widened, and her jaw dropped open. If Rafa wasn’t so afraid of her response, he would find her face funny. Mary tried to say something a few times, but only managed to sputter uselessly, before she finally settled on the simplest question.

“Are you an omega?” she exclaimed a little too loudly and Rafa winced and looked around, but he had thankfully chosen a secluded table, and nobody was around to hear.

“Yes,” he simply admitted. He couldn’t put this more nicely. She looked even more shocked at that and Rafa knew she was comparing his physical appearance with this fact. And he understood. He didn’t have the body of an omega.

“I- I always thought you were an alpha. Why would you lie about it?”

Rafa shook his head, taking another sip of his coke. “I never said I was an alpha. Everybody just assumes that I am, and I don’t correct them.”

She thought about it for a second, then realized that indeed she never heard him say it. “Oh. Because of tennis, right?”

She was a tennis player herself and he was so thankful that she understood why nobody could know about it. He nodded and gave her a small scared smile.

Rafa could see how disappointed she was, but as nice as she was, she hid it and leaned closer to him to whisper. She realized how important this was to Rafa. “Who with?”

Having told her that he was an omega, nothing else seemed as horrible, even discussing Roger with her. Even admitting what had happened in between them.

“Roger,” he said quietly. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise again, but there was a part of her that had expected that. She could now connect the weird smell she had smelled on Rafa with Roger easily. Before, thinking he was an alpha, she thought the smell was his own, but it was weird, it just wasn’t like Rafa.

“Did you tell him?”

“I told him I was feeling sick a lot after the final in Monte Carlo, but he brushed it off as nervousness. But it’s not getting any better and I just feel weird.”

“Um… when do you see him next?”

“In Rome. But Mary, I was on suppressants, that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and seemed to think for a while, before her face cleared, and she called a waiter over.

“ _La cuenta, por favor_!”

When Rafa gave her a weird look, she smiled at him brightly. “Let’s go buy a pregnancy test.”

Rafa was beyond thankful for how peacefully she was taking all of this, and guilt hit him worse than ever at the thought that he’s not able to give her what she wanted even though he really liked her. He thought about telling her that, but he also didn’t want to embarrass her or make their situation awkward. So he kept quiet.

They went into the nearest pharmacy, and Mary, knowing how awkward this would be for Rafa, was the one to ask for a pregnancy test. The pharmacist smiled to her and explained the procedure and Rafa tried to remember it. He couldn’t thank Mary enough for everything she had done for him in the last hour.

“What will you do if you’re really pregnant?” she asked as they slowly walked from the pharmacy back to the hotel. Rafa hadn’t even allowed himself to think about that question. Because there was only one possible answer. And he hated it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are my inspiration, but thank you all for reading


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me, updating regularly :D  
> thank you for reading :)

**MAY 2006**

Rafa arrived to Rome on the edge of a mental break down. The test confirmed what he was most afraid of. Despite the suppressants and his modified cycle, he somehow got pregnant. The day after he found out, Mary came to his room, bringing a fat book with her, and quickly flipping it to a page where it said that suppressants didn’t work at 100% and that the percentage got even lower if sex happed between bonded partners.

Which brought a hundred new questions into Rafa’s head. Was it really possible that Roger and he had bonded? The type of suppressants he was on were supposed to stop a bond from forming, but then again, not at 100%. And Roger bit him a lot during his heats. During the first one and then during the second one, a year later as well.

Plus, Rafa had knowingly skipped a doctor’s visit, because he left for Indian Wells earlier than intended. His doctor was supposed to check just that, if his suppressants were working well, so really, all of this was Rafa’s fault.

Roger and he haven’t had time to properly talk in Rome. Rafa couldn’t bring himself to tell him what was happening and how badly they needed to talk. Something seemed to be bothering the Swiss and Rafa didn’t want to add to the pile.

Mary couldn’t understand his way of thinking.

“Rafa, you have to tell him! You have to tell your team and your doctor! Are you still taking suppressants?! Are you sure that’s okay for the baby?”

He didn’t know if that was okay for the baby. The bottle of suppressants didn’t say it wasn’t. But it didn’t matter in the end. He wasn’t planning on actually giving birth. How could he afford that? Not even   twenty and with his career barely having started. How could he afford to have a baby ruin that?

And even though the decision from his side was already made, he wanted to tell Roger about it. He wanted to know what he thought about, if he would actually be willing to take care of the baby. He immediately knew Roger wouldn’t. He had a girlfriend. How could Mirka ever accept that?

Despite how mentally down he was feeling, he still managed to get to the finals in Rome. And unsurprisingly, Roger was waiting for him there. Once again, he beat him. But the match was a lot tougher this time than it was in Monte Carlo. He won in five tight sets, three of them going into tiebreaks.

Rafa didn’t know if that was okay for the baby either. He had decided he wouldn’t keep it. But he also couldn’t help but be protective of the little bundle of cells growing inside of him. That’s why he was set on telling Roger about it after the final.

But losing a second final in a row to Rafa made Roger a bit bitter and angry. Roger tried hard to be happy for his omega, but the alpha in him was jealous about it and all through out the past two finals he had to resist the urge to try and influence Rafa with his orders.

But still he knew that if he would have done it, he wouldn’t have deserved the trophies. He knew that and he was glad that he didn’t. But he just needed a little time to get over the loss and that’s why he didn’t want to talk to Rafa.

He was sure that the Spaniard would go on about how Roger was the greatest of all time and how nothing could change it. When Rafa had asked him if he could talk to him, Roger replied that he was tired and that he was flying out to France early the next day. That maybe some other time. Rafa looked so worried, that for a moment Roger wondered if something else could be wrong, but he shook it off and left Rafa in the locker room with the trophy, looking small and worried and sad.

The image came late in the evening, his phone chirping innocently. The MMS text was difficult to make out, the photo was grainy and small, but there was an unmistakeable photo of a pregnancy test, only Roger couldn’t make out what the test field said.

He immediately called Rafa and when the Spaniard picked up, he sounded tired.

“What the hell, Rafa?” he said instead of a greeting.

“I say we need talk,” Rafa replied with a sigh. Panic engulfed Roger fully and for a few seconds he couldn’t even form words.

“Meet me in the hall,” Roger gasped finally and hung up.

Rafa was already there when Roger came five minutes later after convincing Mirka to let him go out. The Spaniard was fiddling with his fingers and looked stressed. Roger wondered how this mess managed to win a match against him just hours ago.

“Why the hell wouldn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, grabbing Rafa’s wrists and leading him out of the hotel. Rafa followed him willingly, but Roger could tell he was angering the younger man by dragging him along like that.

“I try,” Rafa grumbled. “I tell you in Monte Carlo I feel sick, and I try tell you after final today.”

Roger stopped suddenly, a few meters from the hotel and stared at Rafa.

“So it’s true then?” he asked. “You’re pregnant?”

Rafa looked around nervously, but the street was so full that nobody paid attention to two men, standing on the sidewalk and talking. He nodded, looking back at Roger.

Roger face-palmed, ran his hands through his hair and looked around in despair. “Jesus Christ, okay, let’s get a coffee or something.”

They didn’t speak as they walked towards the bustling centre of Rome and there was bigger distance in between them than ever. Rafa felt tears gathering in his eyes and his throat tightening. The hormones seemed to be making him more emotional than usual and he hated not being able to control his feelings.

They sat down outside of a small café on the Venetian square and watched the fountain wordlessly. A waiter came over, took their orders and still they didn’t speak.

Roger finally spoke as he got his large latte macchiato and chugged almost all of it down in a few sips.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

Rafa shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip of his diet coke. “I don’t really have choice.”

Roger looked at him and found sadness and disappointment in Rafa’s eyes. He knew Rafa liked children, he knew he wanted to be a father one day. But he also knew neither of them could afford it at the moment. But that didn’t mean this didn’t sadden the Spaniard, who seemed tired.

“I suppose not,” Roger said quietly and reached over the table to touch Rafa’s cold hand.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more regular updates :D  
> another chapter is coming on sunday and then my maturity exams start, so i can't promise anything for the future, but i'll do my best, i promise :)

He did it before the start of the French open in Paris. He asked Roger to come with him, but Roger shook his head and said he thought this was something Rafa should do alone. Rafa didn’t agree, but he didn’t want to pressure Roger into anything he didn’t want and so he let up.

Mary was still the only one who knew about the pregnancy. There were no signs of it on the outside, even the sickness was slowly getting better, and even though Rafa expected a bump to start showing any day, he knew it was way too soon. His stomach remained just as flat and fit as ever.

She went to the clinic with him after he asked her to with tears in his eyes. She hugged him close and said yes without even thinking about it.

The doctor was a nice man, and he thankfully spoke Spanish, so Rafa could ask him anything he was worried about.

“Will it hurt?”

“No, it’ll be over before you know it.”

“And I’ll still be able to have children one day, right?”

“Of course.”

Rafa nodded. Mary was holding his hand.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

The procedure was indeed quick and painless and afterwards Rafa felt strangely numb and empty. It took him hours before it finally hit him what he had done.

He needed to pause his practice that afternoon. Nausea hit him so hard he barely had enough time to get off the court to the toilets before he threw up.

After everything he had eaten that day was out, he crumbled to the floor and helplessly gasped for breath. He felt as if he was being suffocated. It took him a few minutes to get his breathing under control and for this unexpected panic attack to pass. He had killed an innocent child. It didn’t matter that the doctor had assured him that it was still just a bundle of cells and that the main structures weren’t even developed yet. It was the beginning of a new life destroyed and he hated himself for it.

He played through the tournament flawlessly, he managed to keep the tennis away from anything else and he played great.

He was avoiding Roger. He was a little disappointed that he didn’t come to the hospital with him for the abortion, and besides, Roger’s face would only remind him of the lost baby. But he couldn’t avoid him forever. They inevitably kept meeting in the locker rooms, on the practice courts and even on the hotel corridors.

The first few times they met Roger tried to talk to Rafa, but the Spaniard always found a bad excuse and ran away, no doubt letting Roger know that he didn’t want to talk to him.

For the third time on clay this year, Roger and he met in the final. And for the third time, Rafa won. His second French open. He had proven everyone that he wasn’t just a one-time winner and winning like that was a relief. It took his mind off things and it made him happy for a few moments.

Rafa was the first to get to the locker room after the ceremony, with little happy tears still in his eyes. He wanted to shower quickly, do his press conference and then go celebrate with his team and family. For once he was determined not to let his troubles ruin this happy day for him.

Roger, however, had something else on his mind. As soon as they were alone in the locker room, he walked up to Rafa and to the Spaniard’s big surprise hugged him close. At first Rafa tried to keep it short and formal, but Roger’s smell was too much for him and he melted into the hug, pressing his face into Roger’s neck and letting out a long, tired sigh.

It was tiring trying to keep a strong façade on his face through the whole match, but now he could finally let it drop, letting Roger see every single emotion. From exhaustion to happiness and everything in between.

“You okay?” Roger asked, not minding how sweaty and smelly they both were.

Rafa shrugged his shoulders. “Sí, I’m happy,” he said simply, but he couldn’t quite convince Roger, not even with the trophy that was on the bench beside Rafa’s racket bag.

“Wanna shower with me?” Roger asked. Rafa froze a little at that, but then he relaxed and nodded. Nothing he didn’t want had to happen. He trusted Roger with that.

“Did it hurt?” Roger asked after they had taken their clothes off and squeezed into a shower cube. Roger turned the tap on, letting pleasantly warm water rain down upon them. He meant the abortion.

“No,” Rafa replied, not going into any further details. Roger wanted to know how Rafa was mentally feeling about it, but he suspected Rafa would find a way to avoid the answer. Besides, he seemed happy at the moment and Roger didn’t want to push him into a dark place just because he was curious.

Strangely, Roger didn’t even feel the loss of his child. For a second after Rafa and he had made a mutual decision without really speaking much he worried if he was doing the right thing and if he would be sad about it. But there were no feelings. It was as if the child had never existed.

But Roger knew Rafa wasn’t feeling the same way about it. He couldn’t sense Rafa’s emotions as strongly as he could during his heat, but he knew Rafa was disappointed and sad by what he had to do. Only, it was in the past and no matter their thinking, they couldn’t change it anymore.

They stood under the shower for a while, before Roger finally moved for his toiletry bag to take the soap out. He wanted to be the one to lather Rafa’s body with soap and wash him down, but as soon as Rafa saw what Roger was planning, he took the bottle of soap from his hands and quickly washed himself down. When Roger questioningly raised his eyebrows at him, Rafa offered no explanation.

Roger could tell something had majorly changed in between them after this unfortunate experience, he just hoped that it wouldn’t completely ruin their relationship. He was starting to really like the Spaniard. More than just his body.

He started noticing things about him he had never noticed on anything else. Little details that made all the difference. Like how Rafa’s eyes twinkled beautifully when he smiled, how he showed all his teeth and dimples appeared in his cheeks.

Only, Rafa wasn’t smiling so much anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, as i've said i'm gonna make you suffer a bit, but i know y'all enjoy it   
> thank you for reading :)  
> ps. i'm sorry if anyone's not comfortable with reading about abortion (i'm not comfortable with writing about it tbh), so i kept it as undetailed as possible, i hope it wasn't too much


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on tuesday i'm starting my exams so wish me luck :)  
> also, i'll try my best to continue updating regularly, i hope the next chapter won't take me more than a week  
> thank you for reading and commenting, you're the best :) <3

**JULY 2006**

They got into a big and stupid fight. It was just that Rafa was getting so tired of agreeing with Roger and never speaking up. When he finally spoke up, he didn’t exactly speak, he started yelling. It all came out at once.

Roger being Roger, an obsessive and proud alpha, not being able to handle a fight calmly, started yelling right away as well. They yelled at each other for a few minutes before Rafa came up with something he should really have kept buried deep inside, but it seemed like a great idea to hurt Roger with it.

“You made me kill the baby!”

Roger had an answer prepared before, but he had no idea how to reply to that and his already opened mouth snapped shut as he stared at Rafa in hurt and disbelief.

This was something Rafa has kept carrying inside for month. He didn’t actually blame Roger for the abortion, but a part of him blamed the Swiss for not fighting, for not showing one bit of affection or feelings about it. For not coming to the hospital with him.

Rafa froze as well as he realized what he had said. He stopped right where he stood, in the middle of the room where he had been almost exactly a year ago, at Roger’s house in Wimbledon while his family and team were out just like last year. Last year’s experience was still so vivid, Roger’s fingers in him, then coming on his tummy and Rafa running away like a scared little virgin after it was over.

It all seemed so unimportant now. They were standing just a few meters apart because they were kissing before they started arguing. Funny how quickly things can turn around so completely.

“Roger. I—”

Rafa couldn’t find the words to apologize for making such a strong accusation.

But it seemed that Roger wasn’t as hurt by it as it seemed at first. His face hardened, brows furrowed, and his orbs changed from brown to angry orange. And Rafa could tell he was pissed. Angrier than he ever was before. At least at Rafa.

“It was the only possible decision!” he yelled suddenly, “how would you take care of it? What, were you willing to give up your tennis career for it? Did you expect me to be willing to give up mine? To give up Mirka?” The mention of Mirka’s name hurt Rafa even then. “You’re too young to take care of a baby. You clearly can’t even take care of yourself. If you had been responsible and went to the doctor when you should have, this wouldn’t have even happened. Don’t think I had anything to do with it, Rafael. And if you had wanted to keep it, you could have. It’s not like I dragged you to the clinic.”

Rafa was getting more panicky and hurt with each word. It didn’t just hurt that every Roger’s word was true, it also hurt that his alpha was angry and that he was yelling. The worst was that Rafa had made him angry. He had lost all his words and he could now only stare at Roger helplessly, hoping that he would just stop yelling, because he was scaring him.

Roger was panting, his eyes still shining angrily. He raked Rafa with a disgusted stare, before he turned around, facing the window.

“Get out,” he said, and even if Rafa wanted to, he couldn’t disobey his alpha’s orders. He quickly picked up his jacket and almost ran to get out of that house as quickly as he could.

He walked around the quiet streets of London suburb, tears quietly running down his cheeks and thinking how he could have been so stupid to say that. It was as if all of his emotions came out all at once and in that moment he really couldn’t control what he was saying.

But he wondered if he had caused irreparable damage to this relationship that had actually never really had the chance to be established. Roger and he had never talked about what they were, or what their relationship had developed into. He still didn’t know if he could actually call Roger his boyfriend.

They were just this couple who liked each other and spent Rafa’s heats together. Rafa never really got the feeling it meant anything more. Sure, Roger did care for him, but he didn’t know if as anything more than a friend and occasional fuck buddy.

But no matter, Rafa was still in love with the older man.  And he wanted nothing more than to go back, apologize and tell Roger he didn’t mean that. But he knew that what Roger had said was true, that he was irresponsible even at twenty, that he really couldn’t take care of himself. How could he even hope about taking care of another human?

He somehow played to the final here in Wimbledon. He was so surprised about his tennis performance; it was amazing how well he was playing with his current state of mind.

But seeing Roger after almost two weeks again, standing there on the other side of the net, broke him completely and he unsurprisingly lost. He humiliatingly lost the first set 6-0, but somehow managed to regroup and even managed to win the third set in a tiebreak. But it wasn’t enough. He still lost and Roger looked absolutely amazing standing there with his trophy. He gave a brilliant winner’s speech while Rafa stumbled over his own, congratulating Roger and thanking his fans.

Thankfully, all of it was over before he knew it and he could finally go back to the locker room. His jacket was sticking to his sweaty skin and he couldn’t wait to get under the shower, do his press conference quickly and then go to bed. He was tired, his legs felt like pudding, but more than anything he felt like his mind needed the rest.

He didn’t think Roger would want to talk to him afterwards, but surprisingly the Swiss entered the locker room just when Rafa was leaving after showering and he looked at him with a soft smile.

“Rafa, please, wait.”

Rafa froze at the door and turned around slowly, looking fearfully at Roger, who was holding his trophy and seemed happier than ever in the past few months.

He didn’t come any closer, but he waited for Roger to speak.

“Look, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. What I said wasn’t true, I was just angry. And hurt.” He said it with a completely straight face so Rafa found it hard to believe Roger meant it. But he would take whatever he could, so he smiled a little, shifted his weight onto his other leg and quietly spoke up.

“Is true. I’m not responsible. I could not take care of it.”

Roger was the one to come closer. He gently grabbed Rafa’s chin and pushed it up so Rafa was forced to look from the floor to Roger’s face.

“No. You would be a wonderful parent. But not yet, okay? One day, after all of this is over, you’ll make the best father ever, I promise.”

Rafa nodded and smiled a little, finally daring to look into Roger’s eyes. Roger smiled too, before leaning closer. He pecked Rafa on the mouth, turned around and walked further into the locker room, while Rafa stayed at the doorway, beyond confused. After a few seconds he finally turned around and left, not knowing when or where he’ll see Roger next.


End file.
